My Camouflage is Orange
by TheIncredibleDancingBetty
Summary: An ex-marine, dealing with the aftereffects of war and time in the military. A turtle, the jokester of the family, often not taken seriously at all. What will happen when these two meet? Rated for language and violence. The subject matter is based off of actual first hand and second hand military experience, it may upset some. You have been warned. ANON Reviews welcome. PROFANITY
1. The Stories are True

I don't own the TMNT

A/N: I'm writing this partly for my own cleansing. I spent 8 years in the military, and lets just say that I picked stuff up. I was medical, so on top of everything else I also served as therapist. My ear heard stories from a LOT of people so that they could vent and talk it out. The only problem is that I really haven't been able to do that myself. The people at the VA, at least in my personal experience, are crap. I don't feel comfortable talking to them. Can't bring it up in real life, that's a sure conversation spoiler. So since I already write as my own form of therapy, this can be even more so. I will include personal, first hand and second hand stories in this fic. Whenever I use something from real life, I will put it either at the end or at the beginning of the chapter after A/N labelled R/L. I will kindly request that if you have any questions concerning the R/L issues ask me in a pm, not a review. Talking about it helps, I'll answer what I feel comfortable doing so. I also respectfully request that you keep your judgements to yourself.

R/L: PTSD is basically an anxiety disorder. The stuff you hear about are forms of anxiety attacks. The one in here is a bad one, I will say that manifestations like what I described are incredibly rare. For me, the attacks are characterized by an overwhelming sense of panic, basically fight or flight. I can feel my heart beat in my chest, and no matter how big of a breath I do or how steady, I feel like I don't get oxygen. Like I'm suffocating. In normal people not used to this it can be mistaken for a heart attack. Sometimes they are triggered, sometimes they happen for no reason whatsoever. Keep in mind that these attacks and the levels of anxiety are different for everyone, all I can really tell you are how mine are. So when you hear about stuff like that, just try to keep an open mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

This is shit.

I glared out into the night from the interior of the cruiser. What a shit job. Not at all what I had expected, that's for sure. But I was only here because I had to. Normally I'd take the moral high ground and quit, but with jobs this tight, I swallowed my pride and let the filthy pig say it, let it stick.

_"Look, normally we wouldn't take someone with your…history. But the fact is that this is great PR. You're a veteran, and a pretty female one at that. It'll look great in the papers. Show that we're military friendly, support the troops and all that shit."_

Couldn't believe that _he_was my chief. Guess things didn't end up like they did in the movies. Not at all like the marines either. So…disappointing.

My fingers tightened around the coffee cup. I glared at the brown liquid as if it was at fault for the situation. But really it was mine. I could've put my foot down, I could've done something. But in a way he was right. Who would hire someone with my kind of anger issues? Especially with all those horror stories of people with PTSD snapping and going ballistic. Most weren't true of course, they were just hyped up assumptions, but it still didn't help things.

Or at least that was my excuse.

Reaching into my pocket I took out a metal flask and dolloped a heavy dose of clear liquid into the coffee cup. Taking a sip, I smiled as my insides warmed as the fiery liquid filled me. Shaking the flask in my hand, I guestimated that I might get two more cups out of it. Maybe enough for the night. Might need to stop and get more.

My gaze once again traveled to the night outside the cruiser. It seemed so ominous.

They put me in this section of the city to keep my out of trouble. Though it never was said directly, it was blatantly obvious that the station had some sort of deal with a criminal boss here or something. Basically if anything happened here then we were to turn a blind eye. They still had to assign someone over here for the purposes of being legal on paper. And make an appearance so that people couldn't say that we never showed up. The guy that I took over for suggested a few good napping spots, saying that the visible presence needed was negligible. Better that way. Nobody complained. Everybody that lived here seemed to accept that the police were just a figurehead. So whoever got this patrol was normally the most useless. Once I was placed on this patrol, I instantly lost any respect that I might have gained in the precinct. There was that crazy ex-marine chick, put on the shit patrol.

That wasn't really the part that bothered me a lot though. Strange as it seemed. I was used to such things, especially recently from the VA.

It was those stories…

Weird ones. Freaky ones. Of monsters and other really weird stuff. Started happening about five years ago apparently. All that I had heard sounded too fantastical to be real. Things like ninjas, giant demon dogs and bat-like monsters. Surely the cops at the precinct just wanted to make me scared or something. Some stupid rookie trick.

Especially with the tales of the green ones. Seriously, how stupid did the other cops think I was?

It was all complete shit.

Then again, my grandma always said that all legends had some ring of truth around them.

I shook myself. No use thinking such useless thoughts.

I must be more stressed out than I realized.

For the umpteenth time I looked out into the night. According to what I was told, not directly of course, was that our presence should be minimal at best. Yet here I was, parked in the middle of the area in a dangerous part of town for the third night in a row, disobeying orders.

Call me what you want, but it irked me, the thought of deliberately shirking my duties. Technically, at least on paper, I was hired to patrol this area. I knew that I would get into trouble for actually doing so, but my own moral function fought against it. What did the people here do if they were in trouble?

The thought of the local legends popped into my brain.

I'd be an idiot if I said that I wasn't the least bit curious about those legends. Maybe they were some costumed vigilantes. Maybe all the stories were thought up by some stoned kids. Maybe they were a front for something bigger.

Maybe I was just bored.

Which would totally explain why I had been sitting here, slowly patrolling an eerily silent neighborhood for the last four hours. It was so weird. Almost as if the residents knew better than to walk the streets at night.

Probably wasting my time.

Bad idea, especially since my anxiety level had been slowly winding up the past week or so. I was due for a bad episode any time now. With any luck it wouldn't be crippling.

Something crashed in the night, shattering the silence.

I tensed at the sound, ears straining into the night. Then, it started to creep up on me. Getting startled like that must've triggered it. That feeling, that high, scared feeling. My heart thudded, my chest tightened, my lungs seemed to twitch.

Not right now, Jack, focus girl.

Senses still keen, I took a deep breath. It didn't work. No matter how big a breath I took, it didn't seem to be enough. The feeling of suffocation made the rest of it amp up. I gritted my teeth, fighting it.

I don't need an episode now.

Then someone cried out.

Angrily I punched the dashboard. Screw breathing exercises. That shit never worked anyway. Action. I needed to move.

I couldn't call it in, he said I'd be fired, I wasn't supposed to be here anyway. Whatever I did was up to me. With slow, controlled fingers, I unhooked my seatbelt and opened the door, sliding into the night. Muscles tensed, I carefully shut the door and flicked the safety loop off my 9mm. Even this slight movement seemed to help the rising panic that clawed inside me. Or maybe it just distracted me from it.

Another cry sang out into the night. This one seemed more joyous, similar to the ones that you might hear from a kung fu movie.

Fuck. The stories are fake. Totally fake. I was just paying too much damn attention to them. Yes. That was it. Probably imagined that last sound.

Sliding the gun out of the holster I walked around the car down to the precipice of the alleyway with quick, careful steps, gun pointed low. I could hear my own heart beating and my lungs still felt tight, so the episode wasn't gone, but surely it was under control. I could do this. Eyes flitting everywhere, all my senses were wide open.

I froze when another thud sounded. I couldn't place it, the sound echoed off the walls of the alleyway. Almost like it was coming from the top of the building. But that didn't make any sense. Who fought on the roof? From the street I looked up, gun held low, but saw no movement. Then I heard a low thud. It was followed by a yip and the sharp tangy sound of metal hitting metal. Like swords. Fucking ninja swords.

Shit. Fake. It was all fake. Made up to scare the stupid ex-marine. I always did have an active imagination, right? That was all.

Yet I was moving faster now, near a sprint straight into the narrow alley. As soon as I entered it I started to go faster. Too fast. It must be this damned alley. It was too reminiscent of the close buildings of a dusty middle-eastern town. An episode was nearing. My last breath wheezed just a little bit, I could feel my heart palpitate in my chest. I was letting the panic that clawed in my very gut take over. Struggling, I tamped it down. Wrestled it under control. At least temporarily.

By now I could tell all the sounds were coming from the damned roof. I kept my eyes glued to it, hugging the wall in the trash strewn alley.

Then I saw a movement. Instantly I dropped into a low stance, tucking myself into the shadows. I pointed the barrel of the 9mm up to the roof just in time to see something fly off of it. It glinted in the moonlight as it fell, clanging loudly on the fire escape on the way down. It landed on the pavement a few yards in front of me. My gaze zeroed in on it, teeth clenching at the sight of it.

A sword. It was a fucking sword.

This can't be happening.

I realized that my breathing was too rapid. Staring at the blade, I deliberately took a few long breaths in an attempt to control it. "You're not over there right now, Jack, calm the fuck down. You're in America, that shit doesn't happen here." I whispered to myself. It wouldn't go away.

Maybe I should go. Call it in, risk getting fired. What use would I be if I had an episode? Blinking, my gaze went from the sword to the roof where it fell. Indecision warred within me.

But I was already moving. My instincts had decided for me.

I wrapped my hand around the cold metal of the fire escape, slowly sliding down the ladder, planning on going to the roof. The sound of metal grinding on metal as it moved seemed to scream in my ears. Another cry sounded from the rooftop, this time one of pain, followed by a whoop and another thud.

I must be out of my mind. What did I expect to find? Urban legends come to life?

I heard it before I saw it. The slight whispering of cloth on cloth.

Letting go of the ladder I dropped down low, slipping behind a trash can. The ladder, already halfway down, slid the rest of the way. Without my hand to control it, it picked up speed, the metal screeching against each other until it reached the end with an earsplitting _clang!_

Then it almost looked as if the shadows moved. I had to blink and squint just to be sure. No, not shadows. People.

My eyes widened. The panic within me turned up a notch or two, my heart now thudding in my brain.

People in fucking ninja clothes.

The ninjas, four of them, moving almost without a sound, approached the ladder. They whispered to each other in a foreign language, their voices muffled by the cloth enveloping their heads.

I shifted. Though the sound was miniscule, it was enough to cause all heads to whip in my direction. Swords drawn, they charged towards me on freakishly light feet.

No invitation needed. By this time I was spoiling for a fight. I was a fantastic shot and they made the mistake of bringing swords to a gunfight.

Raising my gun I squeezed the trigger. The head of the nearest ninja whipped back, a spray of scarlet arcing in the air as he crumpled to the ground, all sense of grace lost. The others reacted immediately, scattering. One rebounded off the wall, leaping at me, sailing in the air, moonlight glinting on the blade. Whipping around I shot again, hitting him square in the chest. He fell to the ground.

Another rolled behind a dumpster, throwing something metallic.

The sight of it inspired a new kind of panic. I knew it wasn't part of an IED, but my brain didn't listen. Inside me, the fragile line that I had tethered my welling anxiety with snapped and it took control.

Shit.

Instinctively I rolled away even as the metal hit the trash can, ricocheting into the outside of a street light, hitting it hard enough to flicker wildly. Turning as I rolled, I fired, hitting the man in the knee. He screamed as the joint seemed to explode into a wet chunky pulp.

The fourth insurgent threw something down. Smoke exploded everywhere. An explosive device!

The flickering light, reflecting off of the smoke that enveloped everything played havoc on me. Fire. Everything must be on fire. I had to get out. Where were my marines?

_There are no marines._

Coughing into my sleeve, I fumbled for my comm but it wasn't where it was supposed to be. My armor wasn't there either.

_You're not over there, Jack, get ahold of yourself._

My body, my brain wouldn't listen. Flickering light against the smoke. I gasped for air even though the smoke hadn't yet reached my mouth. My heart thudded hard enough to cause my chest to quiver. Flames. It had to be flames. Everything was on fire. Again. No, it wasn't. But it had to be… Holding the gun out, body low, I struggled to scan the area but only got more panicked when I couldn't see a single damn thing.

Shapes started moving in the smoke. More than one. He must've called backup. I was surrounded. I was going to die. I clenched my jaw and with fluid, practiced movements popped in a fresh magazine. I wouldn't go down without a good fight.

Then came an odd, metallic whirring. Through the smoke two more insurgents came, only this time their eyes glowed red. Then they stepped fully into view, charging me. Looking at them, I bit back a scream.

They had four fucking arms. Each holding a different bladed weapon.

Muscle memory took over, relieving my screaming brain. My gun whipped over to aim at one and squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit him in the head, knocking him back slightly, emitting a shower of sparks. It didn't slow him down one iota. Letting out a cry I squeezed out three more, one after the other, aiming right between the eyes. Each bullet further took apart its head, the interior filled with mechanical wiring. Finally it dropped.

The other one was nearly to me. I was only able to squeeze out two shots. The first hit him in the head, not slowing him down, the second went wild as he struck, getting him in the arm right at the joint, blowing it off. Sparks and wires sprouted from the stump.

This can't be fucking real.

I narrowly moved my head in time to avoid the sword. It imbedded right above my ear, stuck fast in the brick. The freak insurgent seemed to know it and released it, grabbing my throat and lifting me off the ground in one smooth, ridiculously easy motion. I brought my gun up but another hand grabbed my hand, pinning it to the wall, the brick digging into the skin on my wrist beneath its vise-like grip.

My panic reached fever pitch, blurring my vision.

Full fight or flight mode, I screamed at it. Gripping its arm to keep it from choking me, I spat at it, kicking at it furiously with my shoes, knocking it with my knees, writhing my entire body wildly in an attempt to dislodge myself. All I did was hurt my toes, knees, and everything else. A red light swept its insect-like eyes as it stared at me with a blank expression. "You FUCKER!" I screamed at it, tears beginning to form at my eyes. I was going to die, I knew that, I honestly expected it to happen a lot sooner, but not like this. Not so helpless. So fucking damned helpless. Then, without a second's more hesitation, it lifted its one free arm, holding a sword, and brought it down swiftly to my head.

But the blow never came.

Instead the thing was wrenched away so violently that it took me with it for a second, dragging me along. Then something twisted and snapped and I was released. I hit the hard pavement with a jarring thud, catching myself on my hands. I was back up in an instant, wheezing through my bruised throat and the tightness in my lungs from the anxiety attack. Eyes flitting, gun raised once more, I searched for my attacker and my savior.

Then, through the receding smoke, I detected another form. This one was hulking, huge, the mass on the chest and back much greater than the insurgents surrounding me. Green. It was green.

Relief struck me when I realized it must be another marine, the hulking shape had to be the body armor and gear. Though why he was wearing a green uniform here was beyond me. He was still wrestling the freaky insurgent, grunting with the effort. "Marine over here!" I called out.

My brain shifted, my sense of reality trying to fight through the panicked murk.

_He's not a marine…_

Feeling more confident, the panic ebbed and my gun steadied. I saw another lithe form through the fog, the flickering light illuminating him just enough, the blade raised towards the marine's back. I fired. He disappeared from view. Then my brother took down the monstrous thing, whipping around with lightning speed to take down two more regular insurgents even as they charged. He wasn't using his gun, but I didn't care. I'd razz him about it later. Another form, this time a slender stocking-clad foot. He cried out as my bullet tore through his ankle. An arm. Squeeze of the trigger. Arm no more. The form of a back. He fell to the ground.

We had to get out of here. The fire must be out of control right now, the flickering seemed to be stronger.

_There is no fire…_

Then the marine stopped moving. I looked around, realizing that the insurgents were gone. The battle was over. Standing up fully, I smiled. I survived. Fuck it all, but I survived. Even my episode was winding down slightly, my palpitating heart more bearable, I was even able to get in a few good breaths from my tight lungs. Shit, but I wouldn't have survived without my brother's help. Smile broadening, I turned to the marine to thank him, just as he turned around to face me.

I gasped.

Everything around me seemed to slow. The fight that we just had, it was almost as if it was in the distant past. All that I could see was what stood before me right then.

The flickering light played off his face. His malformed face. No external ears or nose, skin rougher than normal. His eyes were large, seeming larger by the fact that it wasn't set in a natural looking face. His expression…was that fear? Fear of what?

Fear of me.

In my current state, my mood switched drastically.

He was scared of me.

I realized what it was even as I realized that it wasn't real. Warning bells rang in my head, but I ignored them as I leaned in closer. Reaching out, I cupped his cheek. The fear on his face mixed with surprise. I smiled. Dan had no reason to be afraid he knew that. When had he arrived?

_That isn't Dan._

Last time I saw him, he was lying in a medical bed in Bethesda, being treated for the burns all over his face and arms. He had hardly spoken when I visited him on my way to New York and as I left, he had told me in an anguished whisper; "I'm a freak."

The door had closed before I could respond.

A freak.

I smiled and, reaching out, touched his face. He started, staring at me with wide, vivid blue eyes.

_Dan doesn't have blue eyes._

An orange eye mask encircled his head. Somehow it seemed to brighten his face. Slowly I rubbed my thumb over his cheek, the skin smooth yet rough, soft yet hard. Strange how burns affected the skin. His last words echoed in my head. Tears threatened behind my lids as I smiled broader. "You're not a freak. You're beautiful." I whispered, meaning every word.

_That isn't DAN!_

I blinked as things slowly dropped into place. I just had an episode, a bad one, fueled further by the fight, and this…

This isn't Dan…

Slowly the realization started to seep in. These weren't insurgents. They were the ninjas. This wasn't fire, it was smoke with a flickering street light. And he wasn't a marine, he wasn't Dan…

My eyes widened as the thin veneer of illusion got pulled away. As my eyes took in the actual figure that stood before me. A hulking creature. The green was his skin, not a uniform. The large mass was a shell, a turtle shell, not armor and equipment. And his face wasn't disfigured by burns…

I probably should have been freaked out. True, I wasn't the type for girly screams, but at the very least I should've done…something. But, truly, I had seen worse. Dealt with worse. And he obviously just saved me, I was outnumbered, and he saved me.

The legends, the stories…they were all true.

Green ninjas, patrolling the streets. Fucking ninja turtles.

His eyes, the vivid, baby blue eyes, were such a mix of strange emotions. Chief among them was fear, apprehension and something akin to…friendly curiosity? Either way, from the intensely nervous way that he held his body, I knew he wasn't used to this kind of contact. Hell, technically I wasn't either.

I needed to sort this out. Get my mind together.

Slowly I took my hand away from his cheek. He sighed as the contact broke, his head following my palm for a millisecond. Palm much warmer than it should be, I returned it to my body as slowly, so he could see the movement, I holstered my gun. I didn't want to startle him, unsure of his reaction.

The smoke was already nearly gone. The bodies, nearly a dozen of them, littered the streets. A few of them were moving, moaning as they clutched their wounds.

Suddenly nervous, maybe a little embarrassed, I looked away from the turtle ninja man to look at them, wondering what to do. Should I call it in? Who would believe me? I'd probably get fired…

And of course there's this giant green turtle man who won't stop fucking staring at me…

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the turtle cleared his throat. "They take care of their own. They'll be over here in a minute, clean it up, take their wounded and stuff."

For a second I was mesmerized by his voice. Partly the fact that he even had a voice like that. That he could speak. And it was raspy, masculine, and nervous as fuck. A voice that was used to laughter. It was pleasant in a strange way. I shivered despite myself.

This can't be real. Maybe I'm still bad in my episode.

Then something moved above me. The old instincts kicked in and I immediately grabbed for my gun, swinging my body low, using a dumpster for cover.

The turtle was beside me in an instant, his hand over mine, lowering my gun. I couldn't help but stare at that hand, broad with three fingers. The calloused fingers seemed to cling to my skin like Velcro.

Shit, I must be going out of my mind.

He looked up as another voice called from above. This one was rough and deep. "Mikey! You alright? Heard shots."

Mikey? Seriously? What kind of name was that for a turtle-man-monster? Then again, what did I expect? Tortuga or something like that? Maybe Snapper…or Shelly…or Greeny…

Or I'm just an idiot…

"Yeah! Everything's kosher down here! I'll be right up!" He answered, then looked down at me. His blue eyes seemed so bright that they glowed in the dark.

Maybe this was a freaky hallucination.

Then, of all things, he gave me what I could only describe as a cheeky grin. "You're beautiful too!" With that, he was off, flipping off the fire escape in a way that shouldn't be possible for a creature of his size. And he looked so damned happy…

I stared at the direction that he went for a few seconds, not truly believing what had just happened. Then I looked around me and saw the ninjas still lying on the floor. I poked one with my foot. Yep. Real. I rubbed my throat, wincing at the tenderness of it, then looked at my wrist, already forming a bruise. Yep. Those were real too. Then I checked the magazine in the gun. Sure enough, nearly empty.

It was seriously real. This seriously fucking happened.

So then the turtle man? Mikey? He was real?

Scratching my head beneath my ponytail, I shook my head as I walked back to the cruiser. I would swing around in a few minutes, see if the ninjas were still here. The turtle man…Mikey…said that they would be gone soon. Somehow, despite all the evidence, I couldn't wrap my brain around it. Partly it was the lingering effects of the episode, making me feel light-headed and weak. This'll probably sink in tomorrow, then I'll have to lock myself in the looney bin or something.

There's no way that I just met a fucking ninja turtle in New York City.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: So, what do you think? Not too cheesey or lovey-dovey? This is my first attempt at romance in a while and I hope it doesn't crash and burn like my previous attempts LOL I would like to bestow an enormous thank you to Lexifer666, who beta-read this chapter to help me keep cheese at a minimum. She also encouraged me, giving me the confidence to post this, as I was nervous as hell doing so. Read her stuff, it's awesome!

The next chapter will be in Mike's POV, 1st person of course. In any case, please leave a review and let me know what you think! :D


	2. Curiosity Kills the Turtle

I don't own the TMNT

A/N: A huge thank you, hoorah, and high five to my beta Lexifer666, official cheese trimmer and great at holding my hand through this LOL This chapter is kind of a filler, but I hope that you like it anyway!

Oh, and I've received many inquiries about which turtles these are. To be honest, my original intent was 2k12, but after seeing the movie...wow. So, officially I'm going to kind of mix together the 2k12 series as well as the 2k14 movie.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As soon as I joined my brothers, we were off. Raph gave me a look as we hopped along the rooftops. "What the hell was that? You're so happy…giddy even."

Was I smiling? Yes, I definetly was. In fact my grin was practically splitting my face in two. Reaching my hand up I cupped the cheek that she had stroked so gently. I couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Raph, do you think I'm beautiful?" I said, batting my eyes melodramatically.

It was enough to almost make him stumble mid-sprint, barely swallowing his laughter in time. "What? You…I…what? Damn, Mikey…sometimes I don't get you. And DON'T ever ask me that again." He sounded mean but I could hear the smile in his voice, see it playing on the corner of his mouth. I grinned back, pretending to act all bashful.

Leo came beside me as we neared the Lair. He looked at me, eyes serious, head held low. "We all heard shots, Mike."

Slowing to a stop, I shrugged in a nonchalant manner, effectively hiding all the emotions turmoiling inside me. Looking at my brother, who'd been all too serious since Karai left, I felt a little bad. He'd been so uptight, somehow the prospect of karai returning made him even more so. He had enough on his plate, emotionally at least, I felt the need to hide it. "It was a cop, Leo. That's all."

As soon as I said it he gave a look of surprise. Ignoring me, he turned to Don. "Isn't the deal the Foot set up with the police force still there? Why would there be a cop there?" His voice was etched with concern. After all, one reason why we could do as much as we did here was because of the lack of police presence. And, the only ones who could break the deal was either the cops or a leader in the Foot clan. Like Karai.

I never understood his infatuation with that chick.

Don paused, rubbing his chin specutavily. "Yeah, last time I hacked-" he paused as Leo gave him a pointed look. "Uh, I mean, checked the police activity and files and such that deal still stands. They still have minimal, if any routes through here and arrests here are nonexistent. You're right, though, I should probably check it out. Maybe I can find out more about the cop assigned to this area. It has to be someone different, the other one just took naps under the overpass."

I looked at him. Somehow the thought of him looking up information on her felt…wrong somehow. Almost as if I had discovered this precious treasure and, well, it was finders keepers, right? And it was my fault that he knew, I blurted it out. I had to knock it off track.

Leaping in between my two brothers, slinging my arms roughly around both their shoulders, I blew a raspberry. They leaned away from me, grimacing. "Don't worry about it, bros!" I chided with a grin. "She was off duty, probably lives around here or something. But hey! At least that will give you more time to concentrate on the Foot, right? Hey! Do you think that maybe this is the sign that Karai or the Shredder is back? Bad juju, am I right?"

Shoving me aside, I saw that I had successfully derailed the topic of conversation. Partly because I purposely dug into that nerve in Leo's head. Heads dipped together, Leo and Don immediately began, for the gazillionth time, about the recent surge in Foot activity and what it could mean. The Foot had been largely subdued ever since Shredder ran back to Japan, tail tucked firmly between his legs after we pretty much threw him off a building. Karai followed about a year after. The public thought he was dead, but we knew that that was too good to be true. For the longest time it was assumed that the American wing of the Foot Clan was largely disbanded, except for enough to hold a legitimate 'presence.' But lately we'd been seeing regular Foot patrols, even the come back of the Foot bots. Did this mean that the Shredder or Karai was back?

My cheek tingled slightly. "_You're beautiful..."_

I should seriously be more worried about the Foot thing.

Yet here I was, grinning at myself.

I had never been called beautiful before…

Her eyes. I just couldn't get them out of my head. They were wild, scared but confident. It was clear to me that something was going on with her. She was having some sort of inner attack. But that didn't stop her deadly precision. Splattered across my back I still had the blood of the Foot soldier that she shot saving me.

After I saved her.

It was so weird. I felt so…I don't know…but when I saw her, pinned against the wall like that, about to be-

Ugh.

I could feel my family's tension all around me. They were upset for letting some of the Foot escape, from the residual aftershocks of the fight Leo and Raph had earlier, over the frustration of being in the dark with what the Foot's plan was, not being able to find their new headquarters, over a whole slew of stuff. Even Raph was grumpier than usual. It was like being surrounded by three pissed off cats, hackles raised, spitting at each other.

So, as the sewer lid opened, I pushed Raph straight in. He fell like a rock, yelping on the way down. He landed flat on his ass, stopping just in time to catch me as I hopped in after him. Flopping in his arms, my arm draped dramatically over my brow, I grinned and batted my eyes. Growling, he threw me off and charged after me. I giggled and bolted between Leo and Don. When Raph didn't slow down his pursuit, I slapped Leo hard on the shell. "TAG! You're turn!"

After pausing for a second in surprise, Leo ended up surprising me.

What an awesome brother. For a short amount of time, he actually ran with it, turning to me and gave chase, running at full speed with an angry brother behind him, grin playing on his face. I must've caught him at the right time, which was pretty hard to do with him. It might be the prospect of Karai's return, either way I enjoyed it, laughing at the top of my lungs, throwing my head back. Behind us, I heard Donnie chuckle to himself. Even Raph's growls weren't sounding nearly as serious.

Mikey the venting machine, at your service!

I knew better than to push my luck – or the newly alleviated mood – if I pushed it they would just get grumpy again. Reaching behind my shell, I finished the rest of the way on my motorized skateboard, leaving my grumpy brother in the dust.

The way that she stroked my cheek…

I shuddered, nearly upsetting my balance on my board. Stupid, yeah, especially for a mutant turtle in his twenties, but I had honestly never been touched that way. And Don said that the deal with the Foot was still current, so why was she even there? She could've been killed!

Realizing my thoughts, I smiled. HAH! Here I was, thinking of her like that, like I had any reason to be protective of her at all! I was definetly curious. She was an enigma. Doing what no other cop in this hood had ever done – give a crap – and the way she acted, the way she sounded.

And never once did she scream, call me a monster, or even look the least bit scared when she saw me. Even after whatever she was seeing in her mind was gone and she saw the real me. It was more like…curiosity.

Damned it, but I was returning that curiosity tenfold.

Entering the Lair, I quickly stashed my board on my shell and made a beeline for my room, both to do some thinking of my own and to avoid spoiling the mood I had created with my brothers.

And I couldn't get her image out of my head.

Without even realizing what I was doing, I pulled my sketchpad out from between my mattress and snatched a pencil. My fingers moved with precision.

As I slowly sketched the form of a face, I heard my family come in. They were still discussing the thing with the Foot, though not as seriously or as angrily as before.

Hah! Your welcome!

The Foot returning was both something that was dreaded and welcomed. Before they came back, we were, well, bored. The patrols were largely for show, since by now most of the criminals, with no support from the Foot, avoided this area since they knew that they would get their asses handed to them. Don was getting more and more depressed as it became obvious that April dating Casey was a very serious thing, and Leo and Raph were like, well, Leo and Raph, only on steroids. Their fights were more likely to come to blows. Even Splinter interfering didn't have the same effect. Half the time he didn't even try, instead just subjecting Leo to a really bad lecture afterwards and punishing them both.

It had all made me very uncomfortable. I don't like being around that kind of energy. But, no matter how hard I tried, the jokes and distractions that I produced weren't having the desired effect. I couldn't seem to fully diffuse the situation. Yes, it worked to a degree, but even when I got them all laughing, the thing was short lived.

Now the Foot was a blessing in disguise, a welcome distraction. It was almost like things were going back to normal. Yeah, there was the whole threat-of-death thing, but hey! Can't make lemons without lemonade, right? Or was it the other way around? Either way, I welcomed it.

As I continued sketching, I heard Leo give his report to Splinter. That was another thing. Our father, since we reached our twenties and began to drift apart, was becoming more protective. I could understand why. We were his only family. The thought of us not living with him, it was probably too much to bear. So basically Splinter had a heavy case of empty-nest-syndrome. For the most part it worked. If he hadn't been so adamant and strict with us, we probably wouldn't be together like this. At least Raph would be gone to who-knows-where.

As my thoughts flowed freely within my brain, I finally truly looked at what I was drawing.

It was her.

The sharp face, the line of her mouth, the strands of hair escaping her ponytail, and those eyes…

I shook myself. What are you thinking, Mikey?

Humans and mutant turtles don't mix. Not in that kind of way, at least. Though most of the family seemed to be in the dark about it, I knew that Leo tried with Karai. At one point, they were almost at the point of being friendly, in a I'll-cut-your-throat kind of way. It crushed him when she left for Japan a few years back. That's probably one reason why he was so agitated. The thought of seeing her again, it was driving him bonkers. It was a wonder why the rest of the family didn't see it. Not even Splinter.

And of course, there was the more obvious thing with Don and April. Raph was only too quick to point out to him that there is no reason a woman would throw her life away to be with a freak when there were human men everywhere for her to choose from. Of course, Don hadn't accepted that yet. Even now, he was probably calling April, hoping to lure her into spending an evening with him investigating the Foot, only to be turned down again.

Raph was wrong on a lot of things, but on this I think he had the right idea. No matter how depressing it was, it just made sense.

That didn't mean that I couldn't find out more about her, right? It probably wouldn't be a good idea. It would only get my hopes up.

Yet it couldn't hurt.

No, it might even be awesome.

Besides, what if she got into trouble again?

Decision made, I tucked the sketchbook back between my mattress and, bouncing on my toes, joined the family in the main area.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yeesh, this waiting was driving me nuts.

Even my brothers were beginning to notice.

First, at breakfast, I daydreamed about the encounter, over what I might find out, and the possibility of becoming friends. Apparently the picture of me just sitting there, not gulping down my cereal with my usual gusto was enough to illicit some questions from my brothers. I pretended like I didn't know what they were talking about, playing the part of lovable idiot, so they dropped it pretty quickly. It was just Mikey being an idiot again, after all.

Then, I couldn't get into my usual video-game and TV routine. The pictures were a blur to me. I distracted myself any way I could. One was by snooping in Don's lab to see if he decided to look her up. After quickly scanning his files, I saw that he didn't even start. With luck he forgot about it.

Then, of course, I was constantly playing the role of stress relief for Leo and Raph. It was weird, though Raph's temper had gone down now that he had some Foot ninja to beat up as an outlet, Leo was even more prickly. It was a wonder that the family didn't really see the thing with him and Karai.

And, of course, there was sketching.

By now my new sketchbook was halfway filled with detailed images of her, all plucked from my daydreams. The images were both from what I saw in the alley, and all the theoretical imaginings in my head. There were even a few of both her and me, just standing side by side, or going for walks. All pure crap, for sure, but you can't blame a turtle for thinking like that.

Then, at practice, I got beaten within a few moves. I just couldn't concentrate on it, and the sooner that it was over with, the sooner I could start my new project. Raph stood over me, an odd look on his face. When he helped me up, there was a tenderness to his touch. I understood it, of course, he was always the most protective of me. In a huge way I loved it. When he acted like that, I could feel his love, his caring, even if he generally shared the carefully constructed image of me of a silly guy that couldn't take things seriously. He always had a hard time showing his emotions, so anything like that was normally a treat.

This time, though, it might get in the way of things.

Joining me to sit down to watch Leo and Don spar, he gave me a look. "What's up with that, Mike? You almost _gave_ me the win."

Plastering on an easygoing smile, I shrugged my shoulders. "I dunno. Distracted, I guess."

He stared at me for another long second. "Is it the Foot thing?"

Not at all. Couldn't let him know that, of course. I had always kept my secrets, and this one seemed more precious than most. Pursing my lips I shrugged my shoulders again, looking down.

I felt his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Don't worry, Mike. We'll figure this shit out."

Damn. Sometimes I felt bad at times like this. I was basically deceiving my brother. But not really, I just wasn't telling all, like I normally did. Looking back at him, I gave him another smile. He smiled back, swinging his arm around me, pulling me into a rough embrace.

Splinter was looking at us, nodding with a slight smile playing his face. Likely he saw this as a good thing. After all, Raph was basically re-cementing his bond with me, and I showed no signs of leaving. His family would stay together just a little longer. Not commenting, likely not wanting to possibly spoil the moment, Splinter instead offered some criticisms of Leo's sparring technique even though Don looked like he needed them more. I looked on sadly. Would Leo get lectured again tonight? About how it was his responsibility to keep the family together? Truly I would never want to be in my brother's shoes. So much responsibility, such a tremendous weight on his shoulders. It was no wonder that he had such high hopes with Karai, despite everything. A guy has to have his own shining light to go for, right? His own outlet.

Speaking of outlets…

I looked at the clock. It was almost time for her patrol to start. Anxiously I waited as the daily training was completed and Splinter gave his final group lecture. At least here it wasn't uncharacteristic of me to not really pay attention. I was just eager for it to end.

One thing Splinter did, likely trying to reinforce control by granting more freedoms, is allow us to go topside on our own, so long as we were safe about it. I had never really utilized that newfound freedom before, but I fully intended to tonight.

After all, I needed another image for my sketchbook.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So it started.

Nearly every night, I made my excuses and headed out. It was beginning to attract attention, I knew. After all, my usual evening routine was to veg out between the TV, video games and comic books. Even Splinter was concerned, perhaps seeing his youngest starting to venture away from the 'nest' or something. I qualmed fears by saying that I just wanted to explore some more, familiarize myself with the city, in preparation for a Foot attack or something. It seemed to calm them for now, I think that they thought that, after all these years, I was finally beginning to mature or something.

I'll let them think what they want for now.

I found that her cruiser was easy to find. She was always by herself, always here during the same shift. Many times, she would simply park at one of the more dangerous parts of the street, sitting in the cruiser, pouring what I could only guess was vodka in her coffee.

I thought that by observing her, my curiosity would be satisfied. Instead, I found that it only grew in intensity. Questions filled my brain.

First of all, what was with the spiked coffee? Maybe she was a functioning alcoholic or something. Instead of disturbing me like it probably should, it made me feel sympathetic. Did something happen to bring that about? Something in her past, maybe when she was in the service?

I distinctly remember her calling a marine when she first met. Maybe she had PTSD or something, it would explain that uncaged look that she had. Maybe it was even the reason for the vodka. She never really seemed to be happy, in fact most times she would just glare out into the night, occasionally punching the dashboard or something. Obviously thinking tumultuous things.

Perhaps she was truly asking for trouble, not that any _normal_ cop-type trouble would probably bother her. It made me smile when I remembered how she fired the gun. Not at all like the cop movies, where it seemed like all they did was miss.

Each time I saw her and watched her for a few hours, I found myself wondering if I would ever truly meet her.

Those kinds of thoughts, of course, were utterly ridiculous.

For one thing, from what I saw, if I ever did meet her then there was every chance that she might shoot me.

A few times I slipped up in some way. Maybe sending gravel down the wall after leaning too far from the roof, or something like that. Turns out, she has senses like a cat. She would get out, stare into the night, pistol in her hand. She'd stay like that for a while, listening for me to slip up again or something.

What the hell are you getting yourself into, Mike?

It was on one of these nights, when I truly had to rethink that statement.

It was a month after saving her from the Foot ninjas. I was getting sloppy, after all I should've expected something like this. The Foot were afoot now, after all. (hahaha!)

I was on my usual routine, hopping rooftops, watching her, daydreaming, when I sensed a presence. I knew what I would see when I turned around. The Foot.

Creepy stalker Mikey mode turned off. Kick-ass Mikey mode, full power!

Grinning at them, I whipped out my nunchuku while they piled onto the roof. Quickly I scanned them. Maybe 40. This was going to get intense, for sure. This had happened to Leo and Raph at least a couple of times, getting jumped by the Foot was like a regular occurrence for them.

Well, it was a first for me.

Chuckling, I danced on my toes, the chucks whistling through the air. "Wanna dance?" I teased. They moved around me cautiously, hesitating to attack. I looked them over again. Didn't look like they had any Foot bots with them, at least. Maybe I could take them all, though I was sure to get my shell waxed. Then, from behind a cluster of them, I saw a feminine lithe form emerge from the crowd. She smiled at me.

Shit. Karai.

What the hell did Leo see in her?

No way I could do this alone. Shifting, I reached for my phone, only to find the spot empty. I left it in my room, for the umpteenth time. Yeesh, why didn't I ever listen to Leo's lectures about remembering that?

Either way, it meant that I was on my own.

I looked around. Apparently I had picked the wrong corner to spy on her. The buildings to either side were way too far to jump, the only two exits were being blocked by the ninjas. And if I took the fire escape, I would be leading them straight to her. I refused to do that.

Strange, I never truly thought that being curious about a girl would be the death of me.

Gripping the wood tighter, I readied myself. At least I could crush some heads on my way. Picking the most sparsely grouped flank, I rocked on the balls of my feet and charged, just as Karai gave the signal to attack.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: So what do you think? Not too cheesey, I hope. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! They are such a writing inspiration!

R/L: Alcohol abuse is common in a lot of military, partly because it is part of the accepted culture, and partly as a way of self medication. When you're not getting the help that you need you try to help yourself. And when you don't know how to help yourself, then you just do whatever you think works. Alcohol makes inner demons feel better to an extent, at least in blocking it or taking off the edge. Slippery slope, my friends!

PS: There is a TMNT Horror Fanfic Competition coming up! It is being hosted by The NerdFighter, I'm assisting. I posted the rules and regs on my profile, as well as a link to stealthystories, which is the site where all the TMNT competitions take place.


	3. What to do?

I don't own the TMNT

A/N: Special thanks to Lexifer666 for her awesome beta reading!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Something was wrong.

I knew it, the tension had been building.

It was probably just me. After that night a month ago, the one where I met Mikey the turtle-man, things had been weird for me to say the least. It was a welcome break from my usual dreams, less blood and sand, more midnight appearances of _him._

Then, to compound things, I could've sworn that for the last few weeks I was being followed. Just a feeling. I would get out, gun in hand, waiting for anything to appear. Was it those ninjas, the freaky robots, or him? So many times I thought that I saw him, I could've sworn it, but then it would turn out to be a shadow, a piece of garbage or something equally innocuous.

No one ever fucking appeared, of course.

At least I was still able to do my rounds 'under the table.' So far as the chief was concerned, if he didn't hear anything about me then it was too soon, though I did hear him boast over the phone to some city officials about him 'putting in' a troubled female veteran. It was enough to make you sneak laxative in his coffee.

Not that he'd ever put two and two together, of course. That would require brain power of some sort.

I poured a heavier dose of vodka into my coffee. I would need it to steady my nerves tonight. My senses were screaming that something was wrong about tonight, but that was ridiculous. It was just my fucking nerves.

Until I heard a familiar cry in the night.

I should seriously start listening to myself more.

It startled me so much that I swallowed the wrong way mid-sip, spilling some of the hard coffee across my lap, coughing the rest in a spray across the dashboard. Cursing, I slammed the cup down and scrambled out of the cruiser, ears straining. Was I just imagining things? Again?

Then a fucking ninja appeared.

Just like the one from that night, he was dressed entirely in black pajamas, black hood over his face. He was in full flight, sailing through the air like an ugly bird, limbs flailing, a silent scream in the air right before he hit the fire escape railing on his back, snapping the vertebrae. Limp, he slid off, falling in a heap on the pavement three stories below with all the grace of a sack of potatoes.

Holy fuck.

A mixture of trepidation and excitement filled me.

Was he here?

I heard another cry. The voice was familiar. Low yet high at the same time, a slight raspy tone, the one used to laughter. It _was_ him! Then the cry changed to something laced with pain. My heart shifted in my throat. Then, before I knew what I was doing, my feet were moving, racing towards the fire escape.

I don't know why I felt so fucking possessive. Made no damned sense. But by God he was my fucking turtle man.

Certified proof that I was out of my fucking gourd.

There were more sounds now, less attempts to be quiet. This particular ladder wasn't as noisey as the one from the other night, and no one appeared to notice the sound of it sliding down amongst the noise of the fight. I took the rugs two at a time, crawling up there with one hand, the other gripping the pistol.

My thoughts warred with each other in my head. Wish I could fucking call it in. What if more of those freaky fucking robots were here? Could I do anything about them? I did have two extra magazines on me, but those would run out. Those robots took at least 2 shots each, straight to the head. With any luck it would just be the human kind.

I slowed as I neared the rooftop, the sounds of battle filling the night air. Not the kind of battle I was used to hearing, with barked orders, gun fire, mortar rounds and RPGs, but the swish of steel, the sound of bodies being hit by blows, the whisper of cloth on cloth…

And my turtle-man, coughing, obviously taking blows, yet cracking the odd corny joke, as if the blows were hardly felt. Yet from the blood glistening on his body, I knew they were.

Fuck.

Squatting low, I peeked above the roof top. My eyes widened. The rooftop was crawling with ninjas with new, fresh ones coming from the far side of the building. Luckily there didn't seem to be any robot ones yet, but still…fuck…that was a lot of ninjas. Seriously, where did they all come from? I don't remember seeing any job postings for such a thing.

I'll admit that for a long moment I was transfixed. It was almost like a dance, something far more complex and beautiful than anything I could've imagined. They swarmed around him like a giant pack of wolves, brandishing hand-held weapons of every type. Mikey, though, was like a dancing whirlwind. He was constantly moving, his feet never touching the ground for more than a barest instant. Despite how huge he was, he moved like a scrawny gymnast, flipping, twirling, doing backflips and forward flips. In his hands was a twirling wooden weapon that I'd only really seen on Bruce Lee movies. Chucks, I think. His feet, his hands, his chucks, even his shell were all immediately turned into deadly weapons, striking the ninjas this way and that.

But despite it all, there were too many. For ever blow that he delivered, he seemed to take on eight more. He was getting bogged down in the worst possible way.

And then, off to the side, was a female ninja. The only one without a mask, I could see her Asian features and gothic-style makeup. She circled the fray, sword drawn.

Even before my eyes, Mikey was slowing slightly. He was tiring. Quickly. Both from the exhaustion of his pace and from the toll that the wounds were taking. I saw the female tense slightly, sword at ready. Suddenly I realized what she was going to do. Go in for the killing blow as soon as she had an opening. A fucking unfair way to die, in any instance.

Especially for my turtle-man.

She should be the first to go. I already hated her. What a bitch. Just then, a pajama-boy with what looked like a wooden sword came behind him and thwacked the thing hard, right at the base of his skull. The cracking sound of its impact sounded through the air like a slice. Despite his size, Mikey half fell to the floor, hitting his knees on the pavement, blinking hard through what was likely a nauseating wave of dizziness. The Bitch immediately stepped up, sword held high.

Bringing up my gun, I got her in my sights and fired.

She was a lucky bitch, I'll give her that.

Another ninja stepped in front of her at the right instant, him catching the bullet between his eyes, head jerking back, blood arcing into the air.

For an instant everyone froze, save The Bitch, who immediately dropped to the floor. I seized the opportunity, firing off three more rounds in quick succession. Three more pajama-boys dropped before they scattered like roaches before a bright light. The Bitch flashed me a glare, immediately executing an insane flip that allowed her to narrowly miss the shot.

I was already doing a low held sprint across the rooftop, gun held out in front of me, upper torso constantly moving, never letting the gun stay in one place for long.

But, like typical fucking roaches, they didn't stay in the crevices for long. As soon as they saw it was only me, they started coming back, creeping onto the edges of the building.

Shit, I couldn't stay on here for long. Reaching the turtle-man, I grabbed his freakishly huge bicep, tugging at him. He was just as heavy as I thought. There was no way I could carry or drag him. He had to help me, get to his feet. I tugged harder. "Come on, Mikey. We gotta go." I hissed.

He looked up at me, blinking slowly. That blow to the head had been a doozey, that was for sure. And the obvious injuries everywhere else probably didn't help. Fuck, he got the shit kicked out of him. It took an instant before I could tell that he recognized me. "Wha? No, you can't…cough cough…be here. To…ungh…dangerous. Just-"

I practically snarled at him. "Enough fucking macho-talk, Shelly, Let's just get the fuck out of here."

I could see The Bitch approaching from the side as I crouched beside Mikey, who was struggling to get up. It was always harder to move after strong physical exertion after you've had a second's rest, and he was showing it. Though he was getting to his feet, his knees trembled. He still seemed to be concentrating a lot on blinking. There was no way he could continue this fight.

"I thought that we had a deal with the police." She said softly in a delicate Japanese accent.

"Fuck you, bitch!" I spat out. I spied a door leading to the interior of the building. I knew for a fact that this apartment building had a vacant room…namely because it was a crime scene that was doomed to never be solved. "Let's try to get to that door." I whispered to Mikey, tugging at his arm. He mumbled something, though I couldn't tell if he understood me or not.

Grunting, he finally regained his feet, though I slung his arm around my shoulders for extra support. Though he tried not to lean on me too hard, I could tell, he was still freakishly heavy. Shit.

By now the pajama-boys were back out on the roof, though not nearly as tightly packed as before. I could read the uncertainty in their body language. Part of it was likely due to the unfamiliar situation. The other part was probably because of the simple fact that I was a cop. If they killed a cop, would their deal still stand?

Maybe bullshitting would get me out of this.

"I already called it in. I'll have backup here within minutes." I snarled, grunting slightly under Mikey's weight, slowly inching him towards the door. His other arm seemed to be fumbling in his belt for something.

The pajama-boys looked somewhat startled by the statement, some immediately going to the edge of the roof to look into the night for traces of sirens, others looking for more direction. The Bitch just stared at me for a moment, then laughed. The sound was sharp, and seemed to pierce the air. "You didn't call anyone. I know about you. We don't have to worry about a useless, crazy cop like you." Turning to her groupies, her eyes flashed. "Ninjas!"

They needed no further word. Like the most disciplined military force, they seemed to drop all their worries and uncertainties, turning and charging. Crying out, I started firing off shots. They flipped this way and that to escape the spray like monkeys on meth, though I could hear the grunts where a few hit home.

Mikey took a deep breath, as if preparing for something.

Then came the unmistakable sound of a gun clicking on empty. The Bitch smiled. Brandishing her sword, she dashed in with complete confidence. I needed to get in another magazine, something nearly impossible to do with my injured passenger.

It was then that Mikey pulled his hand out of his belt finally, a little ball in his hand. With a flick of his wrist he threw it down. Immediately the air around us erupted in a cloud of smoke, enveloping everything. I gasped in shock, feeling the old, familiar sensation of anxious panic nibble at my insides as it swamped me.

Then Mikey seemed to summon whatever strength he had left, what he was preparing for. Lifting me in one arm like I weighed nothing, he charged towards the door like a linebacker on steroids. Right before reaching it he kicked the doorknob, causing the thing to fly open. Once inside he shoved the door closed again with a grunt.

This seemed to be the last vestiges of his strength. As soon as the door closed he slid to the floor, panting, eyes slightly glassy. I could see the blood from the back of his head soaking his bandana. From the looks of him, he was on the verge of passing out completely.

Couldn't let that happen. He must weigh over 300lbs, no way that I could drag him. Especially here, the hallways were so narrow that he would barely fit. "No no no no, green man, you're staying awake at least a little longer." Yanking on his arm, I practically forced him to his feet, pushing him forward. He nearly fell down the stairs, I had to take on a lot of his weight when he pitched forward, my own muscles screaming at me for doing so, but we made it to the first floor without any bad falls.

There were only two apartments on this floor, and I had no clue if the other one was occupied or not, so I wanted to get him into the empty one before some lady in her nightgown came charging out to us with a shotgun.

I quickly jimmied the weak lock just as the exterior door splintered once more as the pajama-boys came flooding in, headed by The Bitch. I hadn't put in my new magazine yet, so I grabbed the only other gun that I had. Her eyes widened as the little metal prongs struck her in the breast. Grunting, her entire body spasmed, going rigid and contorting slightly, causing her to fall forward and fall flat on her face on the stairs. I winced at the sight but grinned as I detached the coils, shoving Mikey in the open door and slamming it behind me, quickly twisting the lock closed.

He was on his hands and knees. Grabbing him by the top of his shell, I pulled him into the far room, as far from the door as I could. As soon as I got him into the bedroom, I closed the door, barricading it, and put in a fresh magazine. Then, with my back to the wall beside Mikey, I stared at the door, waiting.

It was freakishly silent. The least they could do was to make some noise or something, let me know what they were doing. But then the pajama-boys wouldn't be ninjas, Jack.

The next moment seemed to stretch by when I heard a soft chuckle on the other side of the door. I tensed, slipping my finger on the trigger.

"Hiding in the room like a scared little girl."

Great. The Bitch. I held my tongue, not answering. Instead I listened for other sounds. This was a classic technique that I've seen before. Distraction. Where were the others coming from? It was then that I saw that the room had an adjoining door. Maybe another bedroom. And this room had a bathroom.

"You're not going to get away from here. Why would you care anyway? This isn't your fight. We've been after these turtles for years. Stay away if you know what's good for you."

I heard the distinct sound of glass sliding open. They were going through the fucking windows in the side bedroom. It was immediately followed by the slight creak of the window in the bathroom coming open. Fucking shit. They were coming in. I looked at Mikey. He was now completely out. Shit. Turning around I opened my own window, peeking out just enough to see the pajama boys hanging from grappling hooks off the roof. Though they had the windows open, they weren't in yet. I doubted that I could shoot the line out, even the best marksman couldn't do such a thing. My eyes swept over to the cars parked on the street. I recognized many of them and a plan formulated in my head. I smiled. "You're just pissed because I fucking tased you."

I heard her curse. She punched the door. Then I heard her start to fiddle with the knob. "I swear, you bitch; you're going to regret ever doing that!"

It was then that I fired my gun into the night, striking four cars, in quick succession. The models that I knew had the alarms. Right afterwards I whipped back in, slamming the window shut. Immediately the night was filled with the shrilling shrieking of a crescendo of car alarms.

"You have maybe a second before people start screaming at each other to turn it off. Sure would be curious to see ninjas hanging off the roof, wouldn't it? And what's with all the shit about ninjas being quiet? Even if you decide to continue, I have two magazines. How many of your men are you willing to lose? I swear I'll make every round count."

I waited another second for a response. None seemed to come.

Call me a cautious girl, but I waited a full five minutes before taking another look. Even then I ran to grab a small mirror on the nightstand, using it to peek out the window. Not a ninja to be seen. Carefully I crept to the side bedroom, using standard police procedure, standing to the side of the door, coming in gun first as soon as it opened, doing the same for the bathroom. No one. Then, finally, I tried the main door. The Bitch was nowhere to be seen.

A strange sense of energized calm set over me. The kind of feeling you get after a big fight when things end up way to anti-climactic for your adrenal system to know what to do with.

Finally, I turned to Mikey. He was just sitting there, still out.

Squatting beside him, I quickly inspected his injuries. Overall, from what I could tell, he would be fine. Mostly minor, flesh stuff. The blow to the head though…yeah…that might be a concussion.

What the fuck to I do with him?

I couldn't just leave him here, what would the average person do with him? Call the police of course, which would likely lead to some FBI or some other federal stuff. Probably caging, experimentation, the whole nine yards. I could report it, but then it would be the same damned shit. How would he be when he woke up? For all I know, he's just a psycho and I've only seen his good side. He could drink babies blood at night, for all the fuck I knew.

Which all circled back to the previous question.

What the fuck do I do with him?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: So what do you think? I originally had a different plan, but this one seemed to morph as I wrote it. Hope you liked it! Please leave a review and let me know!

PS: There is a TMNT Horror Fanfic Competition coming up! It is being hosted by The NerdFighter, I'm assisting. I posted the rules and regs on my profile, as well as a link to stealthystories, which is the site where all the TMNT competitions take place.


	4. Falling Hard

I don't own the TMNT

A/N: I honor Lexifer666 for her awesome beta reading skills!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ouch.

My first thought. A pounding headache. The kind to make you wince. It reminded me of that one time Raph finally convinced me to drink with him. Turns out that I'm a lightweight. The hangover that I had the next day was the hangover to end all hangovers. Literally.

Shifting, I let my head fall back. Immediately I regretted the motion, as it sent a fresh wave of dizziness. There was also a distinctive ringing in my ears that was already driving me bonkers. Crap. What did I do? The thoughts in my head seemed to be made of mesh, shifting around. I tried to grab at them.

Finally I opened my eyes with my head still lying back, blinking, staring at an old-fashioned popcorn ceiling. As soon as I saw it, everything came flooding back.

My cop. The Foot. The fight. Wait, was she there?

Grunting I whipped my head back up. Hating the sudden motion, my head stabbed itself, making me wince so hard my eyes closed. Yeesh. You think I would've learned by now.

I could feel the source, the back of my head. Gingerly, I tried to raise a hand to inspect the wound.

Only to find my hands were bound.

It was almost as if all the dizziness, the pain and the confusion immediately got shoved into the back burner as my sense of self-preservation kicked in. Suddenly alert and awake, I stared at the darkened room. It was empty, so far as a cursory glance could tell. A bed. An armchair. Some nightstands and a dresser. Nothing that jumped out at me. I then focused on my predicament. I was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. My wrists were bound with what must've been five zip ties. My ankles were as well, the zip ties joining together to make them longer.

What the shell?

Blinking, I tested the bonds. I could break them, I was sure of it. Twisting my wrists slightly, I began to stretch them slowly, not wanting them to whip me when they broke. It was then that the next obvious question popped into my head.

Why was I here?

It was then that I saw something move by the bed. I didn't notice it before, she was leaning against the other side of it. Staring at me.

Then again, why the hell didn't I notice her before?

This was my cop.

Despite the situation, I felt a wave of giddiness. After all, I'd pretty much been stalking her, and here she was, across the room from me. At the last minute I managed to hide my smile. Something told me it wouldn't be welcome. After all, she tied me up for a reason. Looking at her, I could see her sharp eyes focused on me, staring into my own. They were mesmerizing, a bright blue that likely matched mine. In fact, now that I was looking at them they seemed to glow in the night. She didn't say a thing, just looked at me as I came to. Following the trend, I stayed silent for the moment as well.

I relaxed my arms, allowing the now slightly stretched zip ties to stay in place. Call me the crazy turtle, but I was curious to see how this played out. After all, if things went bad somehow I could always snap the bonds.

Then I stared right back, finally taking my chance to look at her up close. Other than her eyes, her build was slim. Her face, slightly tanned, somehow looked fragile and sharp all at the same time. They were framed by wispy brown hair, at least those that escaped her ponytail. And, I have to say, that her slender build looked excellent in that cop uniform.

Who knew that I had a thing for women in uniform?

That thought sent a wave of heat through me. A thing for? No. I couldn't. She was human. I had already learned long ago that this would never happen.

But, shell…

She pursed her lips, as if assessing the situation. Finally she got to her feet. This time I couldn't help the goofy grin that spread on my face as I looked up at her seeming to tower above me. She scowled at the look, which for some reason only served to broaden my grin even more.

Finally she got on her haunches a little more than an arms-length from me. Her gun was firmly held in her hand, though it was pointed down.

Alright boys and girls, time to get serious.

I squared my shoulders and did my best to tamper down my smile, though I have to say that it was hard.

"First thing's first. What the fuck are you?"

I blinked and despite my best effort grinned again. Wow. In your face. But she was obviously stressed, so I answered directly. "A mutated turtle." Then another thought struck me as I remembered what happened with more detail. I was surrounded by the Foot. I was sure that it wasn't going to end well, yet here I was. Staring at her, I asked my own question. "Did you save me?"

She stared at me for another few seconds before answering. As if weighing her options. Finally she answered. "Yes."

"Why?"

Looking slightly uncomfortable, she broke her gaze from me for the first time, seeming to concentrate on a bedside lamp. "Well…why did you save me?"

Well _that_ one was easy. "Because you were in trouble."

Something dark crept over her face. Something haunting. "So you just save anyone that's in trouble? Anyone of the faceless masses?"

Something about her words seemed…cold…to me. As if she was searching for a particular answer. A bad one. What if I said the wrong thing? Well, honesty has gotten me everywhere. "Well, yeah. I mean…but it doesn't normally go like, uh, that." What was this? The almighty Michelangelo, scrambling for words?

Her gaze was sharp as she swung it back to me. "What do you mean?" She demanded, acting like an angry authority figure.

I grinned. She was like a freaky mixture of Leo and Raph. "Well, you weren't scared of me, for one thing. You…you actually looked at me." That came out softer than I thought it would and made me wonder. Did that one factor have such an effect on me? _You're beautiful_. I blinked. Even now the words seemed to resonate within my mind.

This seemed to bring the conversation around for her. That look seemed to recede from her face. Rubbing it in the manner of a world-weary person, she dug her fingers in her hair, pursing her lips. "Okay, you said you were a mutant turtle. What is that? How old are you?"

This was possibly the first time that I had such a frank conversation about it with a human I've met. Everyone else was always so freaked that the story came in bits and pieces. That and I've never really been responsible for the telling. I found myself mulling it over before answering. "Twenty three years ago, we got into contact with an ooze, which changed us. We-"

She held up her hand, silencing me. I stared at a second as different emotions flitted across her face. It occurred to me that she might not know what ooze was. Is that what was throwing her off? "Wait. You said we. I know there's one more of you, I heard his voice, is he the one you're talking about?"

Ah. Of course. I nodded. "One of them. I have three brothers and a father. I-"

"Fucking ass monkey." She breathed out, a look of slight shock enveloping her face. I couldn't help but suppress a giggle at her choice of expletive. "So you're saying that there's a whole family of giant mutants running around and no one has seen you or…" She trailed off, something furrowing her face.

Curiosity sang to me. "What is it?"

"There are stories, more like rumors of some weird stuff going on in this part of town at night…" Shaking her head, she massaged her scalp once more. Then her eyes fixed on me. They seemed a lot more relaxed than before. "So you're name is Mikey? Right?"

I grinned, not even bothering to hide my pride. It seemed like the right time to loosen up around her. "I, my lady, am Michelangelo of the Hamato clan, at your service."

I waited. That bit would either get a grin or a kick in the nads. Sure enough, I read her correctly and the corner of her lips tugged up as if fighting with her will. Rubbing her face, she hid with her palm what was likely a grin. "This is fucking insane." She mumbled against her palm.

Excited by my triumph, I continued. "You can call me Mikey, though. All my brothers do. Or just call me whatever you like, your wish is my command." I was laying it on a little thick, I knew, but something told me I would get away with it.

Sure enough, a slight chuckle escaped before she squashed her palm against her lips, as if laughing was a sacrilege. Then, finally she swept her hand away, not bothering to hide the grin. "Fuck, Mike, you know how long it's been since I fucking smiled?"

Wow. What a potty mouth. Somehow, though, it fit. My own smile was splitting my face in two. "Glad to hear it, hope that you have many more smiles in the future!"

Staring at me for a moment as her smile faded to a look something akin to serenity, she sat, relaxing her posture finally. "My name's Jack."

I quirked an eye ridge. "Short for…"

"None of your damned business."

I nodded. "Fair enough." A true woman of mystery

Her eyes roved over me. Funny, it should make me uncomfortable, but all it did was make me heat up in odd places. Crap, was I seriously falling for this girl? "You said you're a turtle."

Cocking my head slightly, I looked at her. "Yes…"

"Turtles have five toes, right? And you're humanoid, so do humans. So…what's with the missing fingers and toes?"

I couldn't help but blink at the question. Then, despite myself I looked down at my two toed foot while I wriggled my three fingered hand. Huh. "I dunno, never thought about it before to be honest." But that motion of my hand brought up another thought. "Why did you tie me up?"

She didn't even bat an eye. "Because you're a giant mutated turtle-man. For all I knew you were a secret serial killer or something."

True. She didn't really know me. "But what about now?" A smile tugged at my lips. Looking around _surreptitiously_ for dramatic effect, I leaned in slightly. "I have been known to _really_ slaughter a pizza on a regular basis. Does that qualify?"

Jack stared at me with her mouth slightly agape before another smile spread on her face. Shaking her head, she dug her fingers through her hair. "Fuck me. Pizza…shit." Then she gave a final shake. Something seemed more relaxed about her. It then occurred to me that, of all the times I'd seen her, I had never seen her this relaxed. She always seemed tense like a coiled wire. Then she reached around her belt, closing her hand around her knife.

Now seemed the right time to show off my awesome manliness. Tightening my arms, I snapped all the zip ties before she could even get the knife out of its sheath. In an instant I did the same with my ankles.

She froze in what she was doing, staring. Her eyes met mine somewhat accusingly. "You could do that the whole fucking time?"

Grinning, I flexed my arms in a classic body builder pose, bunching my muscles. "With these guns?" Then I saw the look on her face and toned it down a bit, relaxing my arms and shrugging my shoulders. "Yeah, just…didn't seem like the right time before. I didn't want to, uh, startle you or anything."

For a second I couldn't read her face, then she snorted and stood up. Something in her body language looked a little uncomfortable, which she promptly ignored by changing the subject. "You've had a blow to the head, probably have a concussion."

Yeesh, how had I forgotten that? Now that I knew I wasn't in danger anymore and the initial talk was over, the headache and dizziness seemed to return with a vengeance. Likely it was always there. Reaching my hand up I gingerly felt where the injury was. It was right above my bandana. The flesh was already puffed up in a noticeable knot and the skin was cut open. Damn. There goes another perfectly good bandana.

"Who were the fucking pajama boys that were attacking you?"

For the second time I temporarily forgot the pain and dizziness as I stared at her. "Pajama boys?"

Her face flushed as she cut the air with her hand. "Sorry. My own nicknames. I meant the ninjas that attacked you. The same ones that attacked me."

"Oh, you mean The Foot?" I nodded. "Yeah, they can be a pain. They've been around for almost ten years. They-"

"Wait." She cut me off, staring at me. "The _Foot?_ Are you fucking serious? They couldn't think of a better name than that? It sounds like a fancy club for podiatrists."

A laugh escaped my lips. "I said the same thing when I heard of their name!" With that I stood up.

Immediately the dizziness got worse and I staggered slightly. My limbs seemed to have a delayed reaction to the commands my brain was telling it, uncoordinated. Eyes widened in shock, she reached for me even as I lost my balance and my shell slammed against the wall. I blinked hard, wincing.

She grabbed my arm, trying to steady me. "Don't try to do anything too much, physically. This sometimes happens with concussions."

When did she ever see concussions? Is it when she was in the service? I didn't know and didn't feel like asking. Instead I just plastered a grin on my face. "Guess I got hit harder than I thought. And here I thought my skull was too thick for stuff like that."

Snorting, she shook her head. "You're something else, Mike, I'll give you that." I brightened. Something good or something bad? Immediately I tried to push the thought from my head, even though I knew it was probably too late. I was smitten like an idiot. Would I go through the same pain as Donnie when she didn't return any of my feelings? If I was smart I should just end it now. No reason to put myself through that crap. But somehow I couldn't seem to formulate the words or actions of it.

Instead I just looked at her as she pursed her lips again, obviously thinking. Already I was starting to love the expression.

Damn, I was falling hard.

Just like the idiot that your brothers think you are.

Finally she sighed, running a hand over her head again. "Look, you obviously can't hop rooftops or do whatever you do like this. How about I…give you a ride to your, uh, house? Home? Wherever? Or…" Her eyes met mine questioningly.

I smiled, which faltered slightly as reality set in. I obviously couldn't lead her directly to my home. Leo would have a cow, not to mention Splinter. In fact, Splinter would probably take it worse. He was so happy when it was obvious that things weren't ending romantically with Don and April, and of course he didn't really know about Leo and Karai, how would he see Jack? Probably as yet another wedge that might drive the family apart. He had such bad empty-nest syndrome that I could see it happening.

Then again I couldn't just walk to the Lair, even from the sewers. With my lack of coordination it probably wouldn't be pretty.

So who would I call to help me?

Not the whole family, not just yet. Call me crazy, call me selfish, but I wanted to keep Jack to myself for at least a little bit longer. That and, as my status as the idiot baby of the family, I didn't think most of them would take too keenly to it.

Except for Raph, possibly.

Well, that settled it. I Turned to her, still leaning against the wall. Her hands were still on my bicep to steady me, her palms seemed to burn into my skin. "Yeah, can I use your phone though? I forgot mine at home."

For the umpteenth time she stared at me. "Phone? You have a…no, of course you have a fucking phone. Why wouldn't you? Ugh." She shook her head slightly. "Yeah, you can. It's in the cruiser, though."

I waved my hand in the air dramatically. "Lead the way, mademoiselle. I am forever in your debt."

Snorting she then surprised me by lifting my arm and draping it over her shoulder for support. I was real big, but she was tall for a woman and her head barely cleared my shoulder, so I was able to settle against her nicely. I blushed furiously. Somehow I thought that maybe she would lead me by the hand or expect me to follow somehow. As my arm settled on her, though, so much of her was in contact with me that for a moment I had trouble concentrating. It was sort of like a hug. I was grateful that she couldn't see my blush. Then, since she couldn't exactly reach around my back like she would a normal person, she hooked her hand in my belt for extra stability. Yeesh, could my blush get any deeper? I was like a giggling school boy.

It didn't seem to phase her in the slightest. Just like she was helping anyone else. In fact if anything she seemed to be downright business-like. "Alright. Don't lean your full weight on me. You're fucking heavy as shit, don't feel like getting squashed today." I blushed again, but carefully tried to shift my weight as she readied herself. "Kay. Now, get off the wall in one, two, three." At the count I moved off the wall with my arm around her. Turns out I needed the support she provided. I was moving like a drunk person. For her slender build, though, she was surprisingly strong and knew how to lead me out of the room in a somewhat steady fashion. Something told me that she had done this before.

Once we got to the front door of the apartment she had me lean against the wall as she checked if the coast was clear. Then, once again with my arm and side seeming to envelop her, she led down the hall towards the stairs leading to the roof, since leading me down through the hallways full of occupied apartments screamed a bad idea.

I looked in wonder at the splintered door. She snorted at the sight of it. "You did the first part, you luckily recovered enough to bust through it for me. The rest was done by the pajama boys." With a free hand she pointed at a bloody spot on the stairs. "That's where The Bitch fell when I tasered her."

I blinked in temporarily confusion. The Bitch? Then I realized that she must mean Karai. I stared at the top of her head incredulously. She tasered Karai and lived to tell about it? A ridiculous swell of pride raised within me. Tough girl!

Coming on the roof brought back a swamp of emotions and served to sharpen my memories of it. I distinctly remembered her charging a rooftop full of Foot ninja all by herself, risking her butt, for me. At the thought of it warmth trickled through my system, followed by a sense of fear. She had put herself in such danger.

Damn, Mikey. What are you doing to yourself? This kind of thing never ends well.

Then why wasn't I stopping?

Luckily with all the bars, the fire escape was easier for me to navigate, since whenever my lack of coordination took control all I had to do was to hang on for dear life. Jack hovered over me, grabbing the top of my shell to steady me whenever I swayed too much. When she did so her fingers brushed the sensitive skin that connected it, making me shiver.

_You're beautiful._

Ah crap.

She ordered me to wait at the base of the ladder for her and I complied obediently, though it meant that she had to half crawl over me to get down. I kept my head lowered, not wanting her to see my expression. After all, she's a human, she will never think of me in that way.

Once again she slung my arm around her shoulders and grabbed hold of my belt. Yet as we neared her cruiser, she abruptly stopped. Not expecting it, I kept going for a moment and then swayed. Starting to lose balance, she shifted, trying to partially catch me. But this time I wasn't able to shift my weight in time, I was too heavy. Swinging awkwardly, she somehow ended up face to face with me. I was still pitching forward, but thrust my arms out just in time to catch myself against her cruiser, pinning her between myself and the cruiser, my arms on either side of her head.

My breath caught as I stared down at her. It was such an intimate position, at least to me, that I was at a loss for words. All I seemed to be aware of was her and my heart thudding against my plastron.

Her brow furrowed and quick as a wink she ducked out from between my arms, yanking open the door to the cruiser, her mind obviously somewhere else. For a second I felt bereft, until I saw what must've made her stop in the first place. There, pinned in to the head of the driver's seat, was an arrow with a note tied around the shaft. Yanking it out, she read the note for a second before crumpling it angrily in her hand, shoving it into her pocket.

All the ooey-gooey feelings that I had immediately shattered at the sight of that note.

Oh no.

It had to be from The Foot. But what else did I expect? Not only was she a cop in their territory, but she tasered Karai. Probably in front of the Foot soldiers. No way she'd let her live that down, her honor was at stake.

Now she was a target from The Foot. Because of me.

A new kind of fear settled in me. A heavy kind of fear. Was this the feeling of responsibility? Was this what Leo felt? I didn't like it one bit.

As she came around to open the passenger door I stared at her. There was a dark look on her face, a grim yet determined one. "What was in the note?"

Her eyes were sharp as they looked up at me. Yanking the door open, she gestured into it. "Don't worry about it." She snapped.

Yet now I could see the worry edging at her face. She wasn't nearly as confident as she let on. Yet I decided not to push it. Something told me it wouldn't get me anywhere right now.

As I settled in the seat my mind was working. Closing it behind me, she zipped to the other side and shut the door. As soon as both doors closed, I detected the smell of vodka-laced coffee on the dashboard. I still didn't know why she drank like that, but again I decided not to approach it right now. One thing I was great at was picking emotional timing, and this wasn't the right time. Later, when it was right, we'd see.

Later? What made you think that there'd be a later? For all I knew she wouldn't allow there to be a later. I had to think of something.

"Can I have your number?"

It came out of me before I could catch it, which didn't happen that often, contrary to popular belief. Yet I was probably thinking it the entire time. It was a very boyfriend-y thing to ask. She was equally surprised, staring at me in open mouthed shock. "_What?!_" Something in her gaze shifted as she looked at me. "Why the fuck would you need that?"

Ah, shell.

Immediately my mind scrambled for a valid excuse, valid in her mind at least. Frantically I snatched at one. "Well…you know…to even the score."

She blinked. "What?"

I tried to act nonchalant, shrugging my shoulders. "You know. I saved you. Then you saved me, then everything after, you know. Helping me, get down here, not calling anyone to get me, I mean, obviously I owe you. Right?" I could see the indecision on her face. Maybe push just a little more, make one more little stab. I gestured to the note in her pocket. "Plus, I don't think that The Foot is happy with you." I raised my eye ridges, trying to put on my most serious face. All things considered it was incredibly easy.

Staring at me, she seemed to be mulling it over. Then, without saying a thing, she dug out a sheet of paper and scribbled a number on it. Handing it to me, I took it. Without looking at it, I tucked it in my wristband. I didn't want to shatter what just happened, ruin it by calling too much attention to it.

She just sat in her seat for a moment, staring at the steering wheel. I could see the emotions going through her face. The seriousness of what was going on. Finally she huffed out a breath. "Alright. What now?"

Now it was my turn to take a breath. "Time to call my brother."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: So what do you think? Hope you guys like it! I've had Mikey on the brain because of this, even to the point that I did a short oneshot about him a few days ago. In any case, please leave me a review and let me know what you think!

R/L: I've had inquiries on Jack's cursing. Yes, people, the majority of marines do curse, depending on where they are (meaning not to their upper chain of command, but amongst themselves cover the kid's ears!) Actually, my OC Jack is roughly based on two real life marines that I knew very well, with a dash or two of a third for extra spice. All three of those marines...fuck was their favorite word. If asked about it they'd either laugh, tell you where to stuff it, or the third would point out the prolific-ness of the word 'fuck' as it can be a exclamation, verb, noun, pronoun and adjective.

PS: There is a TMNT Horror Fanfic Competition coming up! It is being hosted by The NerdFighter, I'm assisting. I posted the rules and regs on my profile, as well as a link to stealthystories, which is the site where all the TMNT competitions take place.


	5. Prince Charming

I don't own the TMNT

A/N: All bow to the awesomeness of Lexifer666's fantastic beta reading! Especially with this chapter, my confidence plummeted after writing this for some reason but she boosted me up lol I also want to let you guys know that I appreciate all reviews, including all the anon ones. Thanks a million!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I watched as Mike tucked the slip of paper with the phone number on it into his wrist band. My fucking phone number. A million thoughts poured through my head.

What the hell was I doing?

I hadn't even gotten the full story from him, yet. Ooze? A family? How did they stay undetected? And their fighting skills…how'd that happen? I knew that there had to be a good story behind them, but for some reason I wasn't too keen on hearing it right now. My head was already full of the current events.

Like giving a giant mutated turtle my fucking number.

I had to be going insane.

Wordlessly I handed him the phone, my mind still spinning.

Really, this still didn't seem real. Especially with him. I couldn't describe it, but there was something about him that seemed so…I don't know…comfortable? A really fucking weird, bizarre-o thing to say, all things considered. But there were things that seemed to fly in the face of logic and make me think different. For one thing, I didn't know too many people who would take being hog tied and basically threatened with such ease like he had, especially when he could have escaped the whole fucking time. I mean, that _strength. _ He could probably squash my head like a grape if he wanted to.

I mean, he is _huge_. Though he was unconscious for about an hour, I had plenty of time to look at him. His overall form was different, to say the least. At first glance everything seemed squashed together and malformed, but when I had a chance to really _look_ at him, everything seemed to fit. Even the nose that I didn't notice the first time I saw him. Still looked butt ugly though.

Until he woke up.

I couldn't explain it, as soon as he looked at me with those blue eyes and gave me that goofy smile that seemed to brighten his whole being…it changed everything about his appearance. Like he was a whole different person. Or turtle. Or mutant? Thing?

Whatever.

Mutant was such an ugly word anyway. Turtle-man seemed much more preferable.

The entire conversation that we had was beyond insane. He was more articulate than most people that I've been around (which probably isn't saying too much), and everything that he said seemed to be geared to relax me or something, which coupled with the unique sound of his voice, it payed off in some ways. He even made me fucking _smile._ This was a lucky thing, because waiting for him to wake up I could feel that familiar panic creeping up on me. If he would've reacted any other way it would've been the beginnings of an attack.

Then the whole way down, with him slung over me, I got an even bigger appreciation of his weight and his whole bearing. It was obvious that he was being careful with me. Something which never really happened before. Normally people treated me either offensively or defensively.

But that fucking note.

Even the thought of it made it seemingly burn in my pocket, as if coming alive.

_My honor will be avenged._

Kind of cryptic under normal circumstances, if you think about it. But I knew what it meant. I tazered The Bitch in front of her little pajama-boy minions, made her lose face. Seen it a million times a million different ways. But this was the first time that I felt a true sense of danger. After all, bad wardrobe and ridiculous name or not, they were still an obviously deadly, professional army of sorts. That and they've obviously operated for years without being seen. Not the kind that you want coming after you.

I looked at Mike as he frowned at my phone. So what the hell was he going to do with my number? Was he going to protect me or some shit like that? The very thought of it made me feel very uncomfortable and at ease at the same time. It was confusing the hell out of me.

Abruptly I realized that Mike was having trouble with my phone. Raising my eyebrows, I peered at him questioningly. He looked at me with a slight blush. "Uh…the buttons are too tiny…" His eyes met mine and for a moment I was transfixed as, yet again, it seemed to transform his whole being.

It took me a second to understand what he meant. Then I looked at his sausage fingers, effectively breaking the deadly gaze. "Oh! Yeah." I snatched the phone from his hand, looking down to avoid those damned fucking eyes. "I'll dial it."

There was the slightest hesitation before he told me the number. For a second I was surprised on how normal it sounded, it had an area code and everything. As soon as I dialed it, some sick grunge rock came over the tiny speaker as the phone awaited the user to pick it up. I snorted a laugh as I handed it back to him. Really? Grunge?

Mike saw the expression and connected the source pretty quickly. Grinning, he rolled his eyes and took the phone.

Then someone picked up. "Raph?" Turning my head slightly I cast a glance at Mike as he had my tiny phone to his big head. It was almost like he was holding a toy. He was looking out the front windshield, looking slightly worried. The voice on the phone, the same low, gruff one from the alley, was grunting something at him. I watched the Adams apple of his neck bob as he swallowed. My eyes followed the motion, noting how the skin on his neck seemed different from the skin on his face and shoulders. Why the fuck was I getting the urge to see if the skin on his neck was as soft as the skin below his shell? I must be sick or some shit.

Frustrated I turned away and grabbed my cold coffee, taking a fortifying sip. The vodka in it felt fucking amazing as it trickled numbing heat down my system. I leaned back into my seat as Mike continued. "Yeah. Still out. Uh, no, not great." There was a sharp word from the other line. He winced slightly, holding the phone away from his head a bit. My brow furrowed, suddenly angry at the other voice despite myself. What a fucking dick. The least he could do would be to lower his voice. Mike had a fucking concussion for Christ's sake.

Not like he'd know that, Jack. Aren't you a genius.

Shaking my head, I tried to cool my temper. Maybe it was a trade-off from the panic that almost came earlier, but now I couldn't seem to get rid of this anger.

Fuck. Hope it doesn't blow up into anything.

"Look, Raph. I got hurt and-" he was cut off again by some sharp words. My anger flared, fingers tightening on my mug. Once again he winced holding it away from his head. His eyes closed. His head must be killing him. Slamming my mug into my cup holder, my hands flexed on my lap, my fists clenching so tight that my nails dug into my palms. Gotta keep my resolve. This is his family. None of my damned business. I tried taking a deep breath, but it was shaky. Resolve. Remember, Jack, keep your resolve.

He tried to put the phone to his head again. "Raph, stop yelling! I just need t-" Another sharp word. Another wince.

Fuck my resolve.

Enough of this shit.

Before Mike knew what I was doing, I snatched the phone. He looked at me with a startled, wide eyed expression that made me smile for some reason. Putting the phone to my ear, I snapped into the receiver. "Would you stop fucking yelling already?"

There was a long, but distinct pause before a low, gravelly voice dripping with _way_ too much testosterone answered. "Who the fuck are you?" For some reason the very way he said it reminded me SO much of those marines who walk around thinking that they're some tough shit. Like camouflaged peacocks with no feathers. Hated stupid people like that.

"None of your fucking business, asshole." Through the corner of my eye I saw Mike smile. He gave me a thumbs up. A pleasant surge went through me and I couldn't help but smile back. Then the voice at the other end started to rise once more. "Cut it, Raph." I snapped. Abruptly he stopped whatever he was about to say. Mike was now holding a hand over his mouth. A slight snort sounded from between his fingers. "Look. I have Mike here with me. Just tell me where to drop him off, I'm giving him a ride."

"A _ride?_"

"Yeah. A ride." I said impatiently. "Fucking genius this one." I muttered.

Again a pause. "Lemme talk to him." Raph barked.

Golly, this guy was pissing me off to no end. "Right. Only if you keep your damned voice down."

A growl sounded in my ear. I swear, it was like talking to a damned dog. I gritted my teeth. "Why the FUCK would I-"

My anger spiked, fingers digging into the phone. "Because he has a concussion you fucking dumb ass! Stop yelling in his fucking ear!"

Before he could say another word I handed the phone back to Mike, who immediately snatched it up, putting it to his ear with a huge smile on his face. Raph said something, his voice noticeably lower, and Mike's smile got broader. He shrugged. "What can I say?" He giggled slightly. I gave a small grin at the sound. "Yeah. I'm alright. No, it's alright. Bad run in with The Foot. Just not real steady on my feet. Yeah. She's real cool. She's giving me a ride." He laughed again. "Now Raph, you know I'm not the one to kiss and tell."

Abruptly he realized what he just said and clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes slowly moving over to mine.

It actually took me a second to realize what he was so fucking worried about. I had heard so much pointed, crude shit that it seemed completely harmless. Like calling a cherry bomb a grenade.

Kiss and tell.

It was so ridiculous that I shook my head, a slight smile on my face. He relaxed at my expression so visibly that it was funny. Raph was still talking on the other end of the phone, and he listened to him, nodding slightly. "Kay. I know the place. Meet you there." He looked at me. "The abandoned coffee shop on 5th?"

I knew the place and nodded. Starting the car, I pulled away from the curb and started down the street. But the previous comment was making my brain go weird places.

After all, he was so nervous about it. Like a teenage boy. It made me wonder…

Or I could wonder why my brain was even going down this fucking path.

Time for a subject change.

I cleared my throat. "So what was wrong with him?"

He looked at me, almost smacking with his eyes before I looked away. "Huh?"

"You're brother, Prince Charming."

Mike grinned again, which he seriously needs to stop doing, and leaned back on the seat, resting his head. "Oh, that's just how he is. Real angry most of the time. I know that he feels like he has something to prove, like he hasn't really found himself yet. He just doesn't really know how to deal with it, so he vents by busting heads." He trailed off slightly, and I caught the unmistakable look of someone who'd accidentally said too much.

Choosing to ignore it, I nodded. Sounded like someone I could probably relate to, not that I was too eager to do so after our little conversation. "What about your other brothers?" Then another thought popped in to my head, switching tracks. Looking at him as I drove, I furrowed my brow. "Why didn't you call any of them? Are you going to tell everyone about me?"

He paused for a moment. Then he turned to me, his eyes full of questioning wonder. "Do you want me to?" His voice was so soft it was like a finger across my skin.

I thought about it for a second. What would that be like? Then shook my head. It seemed like too much. Just Mike and now Prince Charming was more than enough. "I dunno. Not really. I just…there's just so much fucking shit in my life already, I want to take things a little slower, I guess." I jabbed at him with my elbow teasingly as I turned a corner, which was like trying to jab the side of a truck. "You're enough for me already."

His mouth worked slightly for a moment, as if someone robbed his breath out of him. Then he busied himself with clearing his throat and studying his nails for a full moment before I interrupted the obvious evasion tactic. "So…you know any other humans?"

"Yeah. A couple. The only ones that have stayed with us really is Casey and April. But they haven't been around much lately. Really getting ready to live their own lives and stuff."

Like real life could be better than knowing a whole pack of turtle-men? Then again this was coming from someone who didn't really have a life. I looked at him through the corner of my eye. He looked a little nostalgic, in a sad kind of way. How must if feel to him, having friends going off to live their lives while he would never have a normal one? Suddenly it seemed so fucking sad, it was hard to wrap your brain around.

I realized that we were now pulling up to the abandoned coffee shop. Pulling into the neighboring alley I headed to the back of it, then immediately regretted it. It was a place that sent off alarm bells. Crowded alley leading to a small opening completely devoid of any real light. The buildings around it were shrouded in darkness, the shadows around them hiding everything. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. I slowly put the car in park, but the alarm bells were starting to ring harder. This place. This fucking place. My mind was starting to go places. Dusty places. With gunshots. Shouts. The yells. The perfect place for an ambush, or an attack, or a-

A warm hand rested on my arm. Yelping, I jumped out of my skin, turning towards the source, hand already forming a fist.

Then I stopped short.

Mike was leaned towards me, his hand on my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. For a second, I was distracted by his face. Even when I was helping him walk we hadn't gotten this close. Now only several inches separated us.

The texture of the skin on his face was just like I remembered when I cupped it with my hand. Not immediately attractive, but when you looked at it, you could see the appeal, even the grace of it. The nose seemed to fit, at least. His mouth, with…yep. I knew it. Lips…seemed to smile easy. And then those fucking eyes. Pulling everything together. He lowered his head slightly, lifting his…eyebrows? Then he gave me an easy smile. The rising panic that was welling inside me seemed to melt. "It's alright, Jack." His thumb traced over the top of my arm. Abruptly I shivered.

He put his hand to his chest, taking in a slow, exaggerated deep breath. I realized that my breathing was coming in short, little gasps. Smiling easily, he did it again. I just glared at him. No fucking way I was doing that shit. It didn't work. Then, with one hand still on my arm, he moved the other in a flowing motion, repeating it. Deepening my glare, I finally sarcastically mimicked him to shut him up. At the peak of my breath he held his palm out.

"Hold it." He whispered.

Now all I could do was to stare at him, yet I obeyed and held it. Then he slowly lowered his palm, pursing his lips to release the air in a gentle manner. Mimicking him, I felt the tremor in my arms go down slightly. Smiling, not saying a word, he went through the motion again. I followed him.

By then I was starting to return the smile. I couldn't believe that it was working like that. I had tried that shit so many fucking times with the retard therapists and all it made me feel was pissed off.

Shattering the moment, I was startled again by a thud in the night.

My hand immediately went for my gun, but once again Mike put his hand on my arm, stilling me. "No, better not." I fixed him with a look, but he just flashed me a toothy smile. "It's Prince Charming."

Ah. Him. I snorted.

Sure enough, a figure seemed to emerge from the shadows. For a second, though, I had to really stare. This guy…Man…I thought that Mike was big. This guy was The Hulk with a fucking turtle shell. He came up and, ignoring me for the moment, rushed over to the passenger side. His concern was putting him up a few notches in my book. Yanking the door open, his eyes roved over his brother, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Mikey, you okay? What took you so long, I was going nuts waiting for you." He squatted, looking at his brother closer. "Man. They sure did a number on you. Don'll fix you up, though." Then his gaze shifted and pinned on me. I stared right back to that steely golden glare. Unlike Mike, his eyes did nothing to soften his face. They were like the eyes of a wolf. "This the bitch I heard on the phone?" He snarled out.

There's only so much I can take. "Fuck you!" Lifting my hand, I gave him the one finger salute.

He glared. "Fuck you!"

"Fuck YOU!" I snapped back.

Before he could say it Mike shoved himself in the way. "Children…don't make me turn this car around!" I hid the smile that threatened behind my hand. Then he turned to Prince Charming. "Raph! Seriously. She totally saved my shell. Took on Karai and the whole Foot clan by herself, fought them off, took care of me and brought me here."

His eyes widened slightly. "Really?" His gaze switched to me, as if not believing that someone that looked like me could do something like that. I could read 'just a girl' all over his face. Dumb ass. Craning my neck, I pointedly scratched my chin with my middle finger.

Instead of the previous reaction, he chuckled. "You got balls." I could see the respect now on his face. It only irked me.

I snorted. "Wrong plumbing, Prince Charming."

His face twisted. "What?"

"Uh…I think that's enough." Mike interjected, then smiled at me. "Thank you so much for your assistance, dearest." Grabbing my hand, he bowed his head over it, just short of brushing those lips over the top of it. "I am forever in your debt."

Suddenly feeling a little warm, I cleared my throat. "No problem." I mumbled.

Raph's eyes went from Mike to me and back again. Something crossed over his face. I couldn't read it, but it didn't look good. "C'mon, Mike. Let's get you fixed up, you can fill me in on the way." His eyes flitted back over to me and gave me a smile and a wink. "And I'll see _you_ later."

Something told me that he meant every word.

Fuck me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: So what do you think? What was your favorite part? Leave a review and let me know! Also, thank you everyone who checked out my Mike oneshot, The Valiant Warrior.

R/L: The breathing exercise section was wishful thinking on my part. I've had at least 4 different therapists try to lead me through them, but it just makes me mad, makes me feel silly or I end up hyperventilating. It probably doesn't help that the first couple of therapists were VERY condescending, particularly towards females that had issues. Which happens sometimes, as most therapies in the military and the VA are geared specifically towards men. Spoil the soup, so to speak. In any case, I'm just thinking that that's how it works, since, like I said, it's never worked for me lol

PS: There is a TMNT Horror Fanfic Competition coming up! It is being hosted by The NerdFighter, I'm assisting. I posted the rules and regs on my profile, as well as a link to stealthystories, which is the site where all the TMNT competitions take place.


	6. Plans with Raph

I don't own the TMNT

A/N: Again, let me bow to the sheer awesomeness of Lexifer666! Her astounding beta reading and encouragement made this all happen! Thanks so much for your patients, dearest readers. Went through a hellish few weeks and had to cleanse my system to get into this fic again, since it isn't as dark as I was feeling at the time lol Hope that you guys like it!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I could see the concern on Raph's face as he watched me sway when I stepped out of the cruiser. Seeing me, Jack was immediately leaning against her seat belt, glaring at him.

"I thought you were supposed to be fucking helping," she snapped.

Instead of the obvious retort, Raph actually grinned. "I'm on it, princess."

Her expression turned downright murderous. "Don't you _dare_ call me a fucking prin-" She was cut off as I slammed the door, waving at her through the car window, a placating smile on my face. When I did that, her expression softened a little bit, though she still pointed at Raph and mouthed the word 'asshole.'

Standing up, Raph was immediately by my side, his arm around my shoulders. I needed it, my balance still being like that of a drunkard. "You did that on purpose." I chided him.

He chuckled. "Me? Noooooo…."

"I've purposely set you off enough times to recognize it."

He looked at me incredulously before laughing out loud. I have to admit I was more than a little puzzled. Raph in a good mood was like a cat that loves a bath. Especially with how explosive things were in the Lair lately, particularly with him.

Jack stayed in the car, watching us until we were immersed in the shadows, out of her sight. Then, pursing her lips slightly, she once again put the car into gear and backed out of the space, immediately heading down the street.

Beside me Raph whistled. "Hot damn! What's her name? She really a cop? Care to fill me in on the events of the night?"

Blinking against the slightly hazy ground in front of me, I shrugged underneath his arm. "Her name's Jack, and yeah, she's a real cop. Tonight? Got jumped by Karai and a whole crap load of Foot. I was holding them off, but they just kept on coming. Then one of them cracked my skull, everything got real fuzzy, and she charged the rooftop, guns blazing, saving my ass. Somehow she got me down into the apartment, tazered Karai and held off the rest of the Foot."

He was nodding, his eye ridges raised. "Wow. How'd she get them to leave?"

"I dunno. I was out by then."

"So you didn't help?" he asked, unbelieving.

I scowled impatiently. "No. I told you. I got hit in the head really hard, and..."

"_And_ she lugged your heavy shell around?"

He was jabbing purposely, as he tended to do when he was in a good mood, but I wasn't up for it "Please, Raph." I sighed, massaging my throbbing sinuses, swaying a little more. For some reason, I really didn't want to talk any more about it. Maybe because my secret was blown, after all. But one of the main reasons I called Raph instead of any of my other brothers was because of our bond. I met his eyes blearily. "Can you…not tell any of the guys? Please?"

His expression turned serious, his golden eyes studying mine. "Why don't you want to tell them?"

I looked down to hide my sudden blush. Last thing I needed was him lecturing me on the hopelessness of mutant romances. "I dunno." I let out a long breath, shame and guilt washing over me. I was being too damned selfish. Besides, if I came clean, then the stupid temptation would be gone, right? I shook my head. "I probably should tell them. Karai left her a note. She's probably pissed, gonna try to get revenge on her, you know? Jack's in trouble and it's my fault. I messed up. We need to keep her safe. So we'll just tell them tha-"

"No," Raphael cut me off. "We don't have to tell them a damned thing."

Surprised, I looked up at my older brother. "Huh?"

Squatting down, he flipped the heavy manhole cover as easily as if it were a pancake. His face was animated. "No, we don't gotta tell them nothing. When I asked why you didn't want to tell, I didn't mean it as a question, I was just curious." He flashed me a grin as he gently helped me down the manhole cover, not releasing me until he saw that I was steady on the railings. "I mean, for one thing it's not your fault, really, but they will blame you. They're good at doing that."

A shadow crossed Raph's face when he said it. Probably remembering past events concerning him. Then, shaking his head, he continued. "Besides. The family's really been driving me insane this past year. I've almost left so many times," he admitted quietly.

That last comment temporarily distracted me from the thread of conversation. I looked up at him in surprise, stepping away from the ladder so he could come down. "What? I thought you were just complaining." Deep down I knew better, but in many ways I was living in a constant state of denial in one form or another. Plus I knew that my supposed disbelief of our crumbling home lives made Raph feel a little better.

Sure enough, his expression lightened slightly before turning to the familiar angry brooding. Almost had him. "No. Dead serious. Been so hard lately." His face twisted. "I mean, how many normal families stay together like this through their mid-twenties? Anyone else would've moved out at eighteen, then visited on the weekends or some shit like that."

Frowning, I put my hand on his shoulder. "Raph, we're not normal fa-"

He held up a hand, halting me and incidentally shrugging me off. "I know. Don't remind me." He softened, returning to the problem at hand. "Look, I don't think Karai will try anything real soon. For one thing, Jack's a cop and every criminal is careful about going after them. Also, it looks like she can dish it out hard enough to make them think twice. If they _do_ try something, we can arrange to be there to back her up."

It took a few seconds before his words sunk into my fuzzy brain. Something fluttered within me as I realized what he was implying. "Wait, what? What are you talking about?"

He was grinning once more, though it was sparked with defiance. "You know Splinter has 'granted' us more freedom to come and leave the Lair."

I nodded. It was one of the ways that he was trying to keep his sons home, fighting off the empty nest with everything he was worth. What better way than to give the proverbial leash some slack?

Raph continued. "We can check up on Jack at night, maybe take turns since they won't attack during the day. And we're going to be going after the Foot anyway, so eventually we'll crush them again."

We hadn't exactly crushed them last time, but I wasn't about to correct him. The other part of what he said was hitting deep. I held up a hand, indicating that I needed a rest. I was halfway telling the truth. The car ride coupled with the normal sewer smells was making me unusually nauseated. "What do you mean, check up on her?"

He looked away, not meeting my eyes, giving a slight shrug as I leaned against the wall. "You know. Guard duty."

Something about his demeanor was decidedly off. It felt…different. Looking at him, I couldn't quite place it, which was unusual for me, since normally I can tell right away what someone is thinking or feeling. Hesitating, I licked my lips. I decided to test him just a little and prodded further. "Then wouldn't it be easier to tell the others?"

Shaking his head, he looked at me. "C'mon, Mike. We don't need them for everything. Do you really expect to stay with them? For the rest of your life?"

I looked back into his eyes. He knew the answer. No. Realistically I didn't expect us to stay together forever. Even the closest families eventually parted. At least temporarily, or to some degree. Yeah, they might stay in the same neighborhood, but they each had their own houses, their own lives. Then again, I was afraid to voice it, as if it would make it true. It's not that I dreaded it as a concept, I just dreaded that something might happen, dreaded that the parting wouldn't be a good one, and mostly I dreaded the change. I looked away from his gaze.

He squatted down in front of me. "Look. I'm not saying that we're going to leave or anything. I'm just saying…don't we deserve our own life? Our own secrets?"

The words made me still. After all, isn't that what I had been craving in the first place? The entire reason why I never told anyone? Why I never shared it? Having something to myself was special.

He was manipulating me, I knew it. Yet I allowed it. I normally did with Raph. Plus, if it was just between us, then it could still be something special. We could probably protect her on our own, and if we couldn't, our brothers were just a phone call away. No way in hell I was going to forget my phone again, that was for sure.

Then there was the other obvious thing I was picking up from him. Raph kind of liked her too, not that he'd ever admit it. I could tell from the wink that he gave her, from the way that he acted and talked when we discussed her. In a way it felt weird, considering how I felt, but at the same time it was completely understandable. Part of it was likely the same thing that initially attracted me, that she could look me straight in my mutated face and not even blink an eye.

Looking at him, I cocked a grin as I held out a hand for him to help me up. "You know that she'll never agree to any sort of guard duty."

Oblivious to my thoughts, he returned my grin. "Really? Do tell."

"She might shoot you for suggesting it." I said, grinning. "We have to be more discreet than that." I looked at him pointedly.

Somehow he managed to look offended as he helped me down the sewer once more. "Hey! I can be discreet!"

I laughed out loud at that one, purposely exaggerating it. Chuckling to himself he jostled me just a little bit, giving me extra support at the same time so I didn't lose my footing. "Don't make me give ya a matching lump on your head, baby bro."

For a long moment, we continued in silence, listening to the steady drip in the sewers, the rush of the cars above us growing ever fainter as we went deeper. Then Raph grunted. "So. How'd you meet her?"

Hesitating, I bit my lip, then just told him. "You know that night, a month ago? When I went into the alley and there were shots?"

Grinning, he looked at me. "You're shittin' me. You saved her?"

I returned the grin. "Yeah. She was up against foot bots. Then she saved me. She can shoot like a freakin' sniper." I purposely left out the part about her episode, somehow feeling that talking about it would be a breach of her privacy.

"So how'd she just so happen to be there tonight?"

Oh, well, I was busying myself by stalking her every chance I could get, dearest bro! Nothing creepy or incredibly obvious about that one, no sirree. The very thought of it seemed to tangle my tongue. The perfect excuse that I had come up with earlier vanished from my mind. "Uh…." Without warning I turned bright red. I ducked my head, hoping that my brother didn't see me.

No such luck.

He looked at me dubiously. "Are you…are you blushing?"

"NO!" I winced at the sound. I sounded _way_ too offended by that. Like, tell-tale offended. Tease-me-relentlessly offended. Ah, shit.

Of course he could see it a mile away. Golden eyes wide, he raised his eye ridges. "Do you _like _her?"

Keeping my gaze averted, I felt my face heat even more. The memory of all the past conversations on the subject welled to my brain. How something between turtles and humans would never work, it was only doomed to failure, that everything I was feeling wasn't just pointless, it was downright hazardous. "Raph…I know. You don't have to say it."

One great thing about Raph is that he knew exactly when to say nothing. Unless it was with Leo, of course. He didn't speak. He didn't press. Instead he walked by me in silence, letting the words settle, letting me calm down just a little bit until it was easier. The sheer caring of it was enough to make me love him even more. I leaned my head on him as we walked and he stroked my arm with a hand. Somehow it made me feel less alone about the subject, which was ironic considering that Don and Leo were still going through their spats about human females. It was as if Raph was the only one who was unaffected by it.

Then, as if he could read my thoughts, he spoke, his voice somewhat gruff. "Look, I understand the allure of it, you know. I even had a few crushes before."

Should I say that I was shocked? Okay. I was shocked. Swinging my head, my jaw gaped open. "_Really?_" How could I have never known this? I knew everything about my families lives, it seemed. I knew that he'd had a very short lived thing for April at one time, surely he couldn't mean that?

Snorting, he hitched up his lip. "Damn, Mike, do you have to sound _that_ surprised?" Then he shook his head. When he spoke again his voice was more strained, and I knew that what he was saying he had never told anyone before. "It was just some little things. The most recent one was a hooker that I rescued a few years back. She never got to see me. I looked after her a little bit, making sure she didn't get into trouble. Sometimes she would call out, saying that I didn't have to be afraid. That I should just come out. Then, one day I decided to let her see who I was…she totally freaked. Screamed. Threw her shit at me. Ran down the street calling me a monster, even puked when she got to the corner, I was that disgusting."

I was immediately swamped with empathy. What a horrible thing to go through, especially someone as emotionally sensitive as Raph. It was enough to make a lump form in my throat. Without a warning I turned and wrapped both arms around his chest, leaning my head onto his shoulder. He stilled for an instant, then wrapped his arms back around me. I could feel his slight smile.

"Thanks, Mike," he breathed.

The words warmed me. So often we shared moments like this. I knew that a lot of the things he told me he never told anyone else. It made me feel good that I could be his lightning rod, so to speak. I was someone that he could always count on, just like he was always there for me.

Patting his shell like a baby, I grinned. "It's alright, Raph. You're not disgusting, just disgruntled."

Disentangling himself from my embrace, he laughed out loud, rubbing a knuckle lightly on my nose. It made me feel a little juvenile when he did things like that, but I knew that it made him feel better so I just smiled. "Yeah, well…never say a word." Turning, he once again put his arm around me and we walked down the sewer.

I chuckled back. He always had to add something like that, as if he was afraid that someday I would turn and spill all his secrets to the rest of the world. It was just him showing how fragile and exposed he was, that he was afraid of something like that despite everything. It was why, despite what he said, he would never be good living completely alone.

"So you cool with everything?" He was referring to our conversation about Jack.

Biting my lip, I nodded.

He rubbed his chin. "How are we going to find her?"

For the umpteenth time, I blushed. "Uh, I kinda got her number..."

"You _what?_" He looked at me and grinned. "Man, you move fast, bro!"

My blush deepened. "Cut it out, Raph!" I knew he was only teasing, but it still felt off.

"Am I ruffling the feathers of the unflappable Mikey? Dude, how'd you get her number?"

I shrugged. "I asked her."

"Straight and to the point, I like it!" he said, squeezing my shoulder. Then his demeanor became more serious. "Just remember what I said."

"I know." Yes. I knew all too well. I could be her friend, I could think about her as more than a friend, but nothing would come of it. So long as I remembered that, then I wouldn't get hurt. Turning, I looked up at him through the corner of my eye. How would he act with her, considering that I knew he was at least lightly crushing on her? I probably shouldn't worry too much, considering how they met she was just as likely to kick him in the nads if he tried something. I, on the other hand, had more leeway with her.

Not that I would ever act on it, of course.

Looking up I could see that we were approaching the Lair. For the first time, I realized that I hadn't thought up a cover story for where I had been. As if reading my mind, Raph leaned in to me. "Just leave out the part about Jack, I'll cover for you the rest of the way. Get ready for a major freak out, though. You look like shit."

He wasn't lying, that was for sure. As soon as I entered the Lair, all heads whipped in my direction. Leo, holding my phone, was the first on his feet, rushing over to me. Putting his hand on my arm, he looked me over with concern.

"Oh, God, Mike. Don! Mike's back, he's hurt!" Leo called, making my head ring. Then his accusing gaze whipped over to Raph. "What happened?"

I could feel Raph tense beside me. Somehow it never occurred to me that he would get blamed for this. It only seemed to reinforce what he had said earlier about needing something away from the family. I opened my mouth to defend him, but was cut off by Splinter and Don.

"My son!" Splinter cupped my cheek with a palm, rubbing a piece of dirt off with his thumb.

Don was already trying to pry me away from everybody else. Leo was torn between helping Don and angrily grilling Raph. Don talked incessantly, but I didn't really hear it. I was just listening to Raph purposely evade the conversation in a way that made it seem like it really was his fault. He was protecting me, allowing him to be the scapegoat so that I wouldn't be the focus and get into trouble.

As Don took off my bandana and started cleaning my wound, my thoughts were already wandering. Raph had made a lot of good points, which were only supported by the fact that I really did want to see Jack again. I looked at Don while he turned to get something from his medical table. He was still reeling from April's relationship with Casey a year ago, even more so since they had started to drift away. And then there was Leo, with his dangerous relationship with Karai. The story that Raph told me earlier was still reverberating in my head. Relationships never went well for us, that was for sure.

If we played it safely, then maybe this wouldn't end badly.

Of course, I was probably just kidding myself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I know it's just a convo piece, but I hope that you guys liked it anyway! Please leave a review and let me know what you think! They are SUCH an inspiration to writing! *hint hint*


	7. The Email

I don't own the TMNT

A/N: Thanks so much to Lexifer666 for her beta reading skills! Sorry about the delay in posting, I've been having internet issues _again..._but luckily I'm going to be moving soon, and am going to replace my internet while I'm at it, so the issue will be solved! Thank you to everyone that reviewed it! It makes me so happy! Hope you like this chapter, it is a bit of a filler.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_The air was filled with the sounds of gun blasts and yelling. I hit the ground hard, scrambling, scooting on my butt to take cover behind the half-fallen wall. I coughed through the haze of dirt. My mind was spinning. This wasn't supposed to happen. There weren't supposed to be any insurgents here. Our sources said it was clear._

_Fucking shitty luck. Caught in an ambush._

_I heard some others calling for help, calling for orders. They couldn't see what was going on from their position. They were separated from us. They needed direction. The Lieutenant was supposed to be doing this shit. Barely peeking my head above my cover, I stole a quick look around. I didn't see LT anywhere._

_Fucking ass monkey._

_I heard them call out again. They were going to try to break cover. They needed cover fire. I yelled at them that I was on it. I couldn't let them stay pinned to the ground like that._

_My bullets sprayed the buildings where the main group of insurgents were. They ducked behind their respective covers to avoid my fire. The group then used the distraction. The marines, heavily laden in gear, quickly sprinted across the opening to my side, where the main forces were. The gunny was the last. Bringing up the rear._

_The bullet rang out from the opposite direction. Sniper. He fell. I screamed._

_I could see Jacobs beside me. His eyes were wide. We loved our gunny. Then we heard him scream in pain. He wasn't dead._

_Before I knew it, Jacobs was sprinting across the area, hell bent on saving him. I screamed for him to stop. That's how they picked us off. This was all working from memory. I knew where the next bullet would hit. I should've stopped him. I didn't try hard enough. I failed him. Why didn't I stop him? Now I got to watch him hit the filthy dirt one last time. Now I had to hear his scream. Now I had to see those sightless eyes s-_

_A hand gripped my shoulder and I whipped around to see Mike's smiling face. The smile seemed to make his face glow and come alive. I could feel the warmth._

_I blinked in confusion. What the fuck was going on here? I could still feel the panic clawing frantically at my chest. This wasn't right. It wasn't real. Death. That was real. Not this._

_All the turmoil and chaos around me seemed to fade into nothingness. His smile broadened. "Life is like a box of pizza. You never know what toppings you'll get."_

_How the fuck is this making me feel better? It didn't make any sense. Yet I was smiling. Amidst the dirt, death and blood I was fucking smiling._

When my eyes opened I expected to see a lot, yet the image of my ceiling shouldn't have surprised me at all.

For a second I just laid there, my sheets tangled around my legs, my body still thrumming with the vividness of the dream.

The beginning of the dream was nothing new. It was one of the ones that I had on a regular basis. Normally they tore me a new one. Left me drowning in panic, pain and sickness. Then why the fuck did I feel so fucking calm right now?

Mike.

Everything flashed in my memory, fresh and emergent. Him saving me. Me saving him. Our talk. Sitting across from him. His hand on my skin…

C'mon, Jack. This can't really be real. Surely you imagined the whole thing.

Then again, I've never been accused of being imaginative before.

Swinging my legs over my bed, I stared at the threadbare carpet, my head still swimming in confusion. NEVER had my nightmares ended like that. They normally ended in blood and dirt. All of them. Coupled with my anguish, hate and guilt. Why was this one so different? What was it about Mike that was so different?

Other than being a giant turtle man.

My mouth hitched up at the thought. Like it or not, it was real. And, despite my incredulity of it all, I didn't mind it one bit.

Just like I always did, I banished the nightmare with an ice-cold shower, the kind that makes you cry out when you hop in. The nightmare washed away with the water, banished until the next night it would appear. Buried in my subconscious. But that last part still wouldn't leave my brain. His smile. Strange, otherwise his face would likely be ugly, but that fucking smile…

Change tracks there, Jack.

After all you have an army of pajama boys after you.

Strange how nonchalant that sounded.

After I dried myself, I blinked past the sleepiness as I got my thermos of coffee, adding in a little more vodka than usual. After last night, I needed it.

My thoughts were all over the place as I drove to work. First and foremost was that I never gave away my number. Ever. I had no interest in that sort of shit. Yet I gave it to Mike the turtle-man after saving him from the pajama boys and The Bitch.

Must be going fucking insane.

Which reminded me, I had an appointment with the counselor tomorrow.

I bit back a groan. _That_ was one bitch that I did NOT enjoy seeing.

Forcefully I switched my train of thought.

Mike's brother, now _he_ was a piece of fucking work. I wasn't sure what to think about him yet. He reminded me too much of some of the cocky marines that I had lived with that it was just too weird. Mike on the other hand, there was something different about him. Like that fucking breathing exercise that _never_ worked before, suddenly it's doing what it's supposed to? It didn't make sense.

Maybe Mike was actually an evil demon in disguise, trying to lure me in to steal my soul when I was all giddy, and I was falling for his evil demonic power.

Or maybe you watch too many corny horror movies when you're drunk.

My lip hitched up at that thought.

Turned out I needed that little smile. The beginning part of my day was pure horse shit.

It wasn't a regular patrol day. I went in to do reporting, catch up on the oh-so-fun paperwork and other useless shit. Of course the Chief leered at me as soon as I came in. Apparently employing a disabled female veteran was really a cash cow for the precinct.

Glad I could be of some use.

Not wanting to raise his suspicion over my dosing his coffee with laxative for the past week, I smiled back at him, raising the coffee thermos at him in mock salute, pushing some escaped hair behind my ear with my middle finger.

He didn't notice the mockery and returned the greeting, saying some nonsense about how great I was doing, dropping by a hint that I might want to come to a charity dinner, which was code for 'I want to show off how charitable I am to 'people' like you.' I said that I would think about it. He turned with a smile, walking back to his office. I noticed the careful way he walked, like he had something stuffed up his ass. Chafing from too much diarrhea maybe? Amazing how thoughts like that could put a smile on your face.

I marched through the main office area without nary a glance. A few cops quickly scooted to the far side of the room, suddenly eager to complete some imaginary assignment. After the first week they knew better than to give me shit for my shitty fucking position. At least none of them pressed charges. Probably because I was the Chief's pet project. It would change once I outlived the usefulness of it. I could ride the ride for as long as I could until then, though. I cast a glance at one of the ballsier cops, sitting behind his desk. As soon as he saw me his eyes widened in fear and he quickly busied himself writing some nonsense. I smiled. The first day here, he thought he could tease me about my 'useless cop' patrol. At least they fixed the dent in the wall behind his desk. I knew that they all talked relentlessly about me behind my back so I didn't feel bad rubbing it in every once in a while. I swear it was like working with a pack of fucking teenage girls.

My work area was a secluded one in the corner away from the windows. Plopping down I quickly pulled up my files. Considering that on my patrol I was guaranteed to 'see nothing' even if I actually 'saw something,' it didn't take as long as it did for others. I still had to file everything, though, for appearances sake. Considering what, or who, I saw last night, though, I didn't mind all that much.

Of course that drifted my thoughts over to Mike.

Where did he live? It was obvious that he wanted to keep it a secret, for good reason, too. Maybe he lived underground. I saw one of those shows that show everything that is built under the pavement, and sometimes it surprises people. I was sure that there must be some old subway thing or something that people forgot about. They must be really good at hiding to live in the biggest city in the country for all this time with only the occasional sighting.

I found myself trying to imagine what their home looked like, but for the life of me all I could picture was that dusty middle-eastern town from my dream. With Mike there, comparing life to pizza just to make me smile.

Maybe I should be more creeped out by this. Or maybe I just lacked the necessary 'normal' gene or some shit like that. Either way, I found myself content to grin slightly at the memory.

After almost an hour of typing, my cell phone chirped.

Blinking, I pulled it out and stared at it. Who would call me? The only person that I ever talked to was Dan, and I hadn't been able to get a hold of him for the past month. I stared at the caller ID. It was labeled 'unknown.' Something inside me skipped. After all I was fucking kidding myself. Who else would call me after the fucking night I'd had? Pursing my lips, I opened the message:

-Roses are Red. Violets are blue. Pizza is awesome. And so are you

Abruptly I laughed out loud, startling everyone in the office out of their skins as they looked at me warily. I shook my head. Weird, even from a text, Mike could make me smile. Weirder still the pizza reference, just like my dream. Instead of being wierded out, though, I straightened up in my chair with a grin. Ignoring the stares from my fellow cops, I responded.

-You're a dumbass.

I waited for a minute, and when there was no immediate response I started typing again, keeping an eye on my phone lying on the desk. What was he waiting for? Why was it taking so long?

And why are you waiting on bated breath for a giant turtle-man to text you?

That thought made me pause. This should be wrong, right? It should totally be fucking wrong. Why was I acting like this then?

Again. Questioning sanity.

Ah, fuck sanity.

The phone chirped.

Ridiculously, I snatched it off the desk, opening it to see the message:

-About last night…

Touching the screen, I tried to scroll down, but there was nothing more to the message. I felt a stab of disappointment. Really? That was it? Somehow I was expecting more. Then again, there was no reason why I should be expecting shit. The entire situation was ridiculous. I was in a room full of fucking high-school girls, and now it almost felt like I was talking to a high school boy. I could almost picture him leaning over the phone. Somehow I couldn't tell if that was a bad thing or not. Gah. I responded.

-?

Slapping the phone down once more, thoroughly disappointed in myself, I typed like a monster. I wanted to get all my shit done before the stupid VA appointment so I didn't have to come back to this hellhole. I only had a few more pages. Then the phone chirped just as my computer beeped, letting me know that I had email. Texting _and_ email? Must be getting popular. Maybe that's what took him so fucking long. With a slight grin on my face, I checked the phone first.

-Can my brother and I come over tonight?

Short and to the point. I knew that this had to do with the note in my cruiser. For some reason it never occurred to me that they might decide to play bodyguard, which is what I guessed that they were going to do. In fact I wasn't thinking anything last night when I gave him my number, I was too frazzled and numb to think straight. Them coming over though? The thought of it seemed so wrong. I was probably taking this stupid shit too far. He was only doing this out of obligation anyway. That and the thought of me needing a stupid body guard pissed me off to no end. I wasn't some stupid useless female. I might be blowing out of proportion but I felt I was entitled to it. This stupid fucking text didn't even deserve an answer.

Then my thoughts shifted.

In my mind I pictured my shabby little apartment. It was a one bedroom, dark, plain, and messy. Come to think of it, why was I so eager to even go home? Once I got there, I usually got a bad combination of depressed and twitchy that I ended up drinking till I passed out on the couch.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have some company.

NO!

No. I didn't need a fucking bodyguard.

I didn't answer the phone. In my own simmering thoughts I was thinking all sorts of nasty thoughts. Didn't matter if it was an asshole human or a clueless turtle man. A man was a man was a man was a man. Fucking ass. Instead of dwelling on it, I checked the email, looking for a distraction. I only had one more page to do anyway. In it was a message from someone named Craig Johnson. Curious, I opened it.

_Ms. Jacqueline Tate,_

_I am a cryptozoologist employed through Quantico, VA. I am here investigating some rumors of unknown animals here in the city. I was told that you patrol the area where they have mainly been spotted. Please reply to this email or at the number below so that we may arrange a meeting. You will be reimbursed for your time. This is of the utmost importance._

I read it. Then read it again. Something inside my gut twisted cold.

Fucking ass monkey. This couldn't be happening. Have they ever been investigated before? I looked at the first line. Quantico. There was some covert government shit that went on there. Was it a coincidence? I didn't generally believe in coincidences. My eye stole over to my phone. If the government was involved, then things could be bad. Maybe I was being paranoid. But being paranoid saved my ass more times than I could count. I decided to trust my gut. Besides, he should know. Snatching my phone I quickly texted him.

-Tonight at my place.

I sent it, then drummed my fingers on the desktop. Did that seem to eager? This was supposed to be serious. Maybe he was getting the wrong idea. I typed in something else.

-I do NOT need a body guard. If I catch you guarding I'll kick your ass. No hesitation.

His answer was immediate.

-Ma'am yes ma'am

I frowned.

-I mean it

-Yes ma'am.

-You're teasing me.

-No ma'am.

-Stop it. Now.

-Ok, sorry! :)

He still seemed to be joking. I decided to tell him now.

-I'm serious. Someone emailed me about you.

There was a distinctive pause before he replied.

-That's bad.

As I looked at the email, I couldn't help but agree. Bad shit indeed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

R/L: There will be more dream sequences in the future, just because that tends to be a huge part of PTSD. The scenario in that dream is a real one, told to me by a marine. In the real situation, the first marine was shot, the second ran out to save him, ended up getting shot in the leg and the bladder (which is a horrible place to get shot). The first ended up dying, the second almost died but survived, but the injury made him permanently disabled. The marine who told it to me truly did feel responsible for it even though he had nothing to do with it. Again, that's a feeling that tends to happen.

A/N: Let me know what you think of the chapter! Reviews are SO awesome!


	8. In Her Apartment

I don't own the TMNT

A/N: Sorry about the delay guys! The move went well, though it did comply with Murphy's Law in that almost everything that could go wrong, did. My genius internet company even shut off my internet over a week early, so I was completely without for about three weeks. Then I had a big family issue to deal with for about a week afterwards. So stress-stress-stress-stress! Luckily I have my story here to vent my emotions with lol Special thanks, bows, and hugs and kisses to Lexifer666 for her awesome beta-reading and apprehension-soothing skills!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Never before had I been so happy to be traveling the rooftops.

I was sinking myself in deep, I knew that, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to care. From what experience, Raph, and common sense told me, this whole crush thing would end horribly, likely with my heart shattered into a million pieces. But for the first time, I understood it when I heard the line 'it was worth it.' Because right now it was. Horrible ending or not, I wanted to enjoy the ride while it lasted.

It was a fascinating feeling, really. The strange mix of excitement and fear, sprinkled with the unknown, it made me downright giddy. Just texting her earlier had been an experience. I must have entered in a million texts just to erase them and start again, which is strange for me 'cause normally I'm never at a loss for words. I still had the texts on my phone.

Hoisting the bag a little more carefully over my shell, I cleared the next alleyway easily. It was a long jump, but I felt like I was on air.

Almost like I was heading to my first date.

Silly, of course. She likely didn't think of it that way, and you could hardly call it a date when your grumpy older brother was tagging along, but by golly if I wanted to think of it as a date, a date it would be in my mind!

Pausing at a turnaround, for the millionth time I inspected the bag. Beside me Raph grimaced impatiently. "Mike. The food's fine already. Cool it."

I grinned despite myself. I couldn't help it. Most restaurants in New York wasted horribly, and the high end ones were no better. But stealing from the refined garbage of the higher class restaurants was always more risky. Better neighborhood meant people paid attention. But it was worth it. I was going to cook my heart out tonight.

As I closed the bag after the inspection, I could feel Raph's eyes on me. "Look, I know it's exciting and all, but remember what I said." He sighed in exasperation as I happily bobbed my head in agreement. He cursed under his breath. "I mean it, you're acting like there's nothing urgent about this trip!"

Ah, yes. The email. I hadn't forgotten, I just couldn't seem to concentrate on it, or maybe I didn't want to. Don always found those wayward messages in the past. He had a special cyber-tracker designed to root out anything speaking of 'mutants' 'giant turtles' or anything else that sounded like us. He was a little distracted now, being bothered by April's engagement and all, but he would catch it, he always did. Then we would just lay low for a while, like we always did while he erased all evidence online.

Yet I couldn't try to downplay the seriousness of it no matter how hard I tried. It was literally like a thorn in the side of my bubble of happiness, threatening to burst everything if I moved the wrong way. Even now, I could feel it niggling in the back of my brain.

But we'd had close calls in the past, closer, in fact. And we always got through it. Yes, it was serious and it downplayed my excitement by a huge margin, but we still had to live, right? At least for the night.

I looked up at Raph, giving him a placating smile. "Yeah, I know, Raph. It's just hard, you know?" He looked at me for a second before kicking his lip up in a smirk. Shaking his head he continued, with me at his heels.

I was finding it hard to gauge Raph's mood, which was surprising. It was like a mix of nervousness, impatience, excitement and something else. Hopefully he enjoyed himself and got along okay with Jack.

For an instant I almost forgot about the serious issue of the email when I spied her apartment building. Raph stood next to me, his huge frame next to my more slender one. Quickly I spied her window, an unobtrusive looking thing with drab gray curtains, the twelfth story up. My eyes continued upward to the rooftop and quickly narrowed when I spied two figures lurking around the edge.

Foot ninja.

Something primal riled within me at the sight of them. They were after Jack, to be sure. There were only two of them so just scouts. But to scout for what? My eyes darted to Raph and I saw by his face that he saw them too. He flashed me a feral smile. "Time to paint the pavement?"

Rolling my eyes, I gave a slight smile. One time he made a Foot ninja splatter on the pavement, and he couldn't seem to get it out of his head. Ultimate tough-guy thing, I suppose. My mind worked for a second. "Maybe we should leave one alive, so that they know that Jack's protected."

His sai were already out. "I like the way you think."

With that we were off. They didn't see us coming, and despite our size we landed on the other rooftop with surprising softness. Me being faster, I went for the closest ninja. He turned around just in time to see my attack. Feinting to the side, he barely dodged a deadly blow from my nunchuku, and instead of the crown of the head I caught his neck. The blow was still hard enough that I heard something crackle beneath the wood and he crumpled to the ground. I turned around just in time to see, judging from the juicy mess in front of him, that Raph seemed to have forgotten what I said about leaving one of them alive. I shook my head. Good thing this guy was lucky enough to live.

My brother looked at me, his eyes glinting the way they always did after battle, little or not. I raised my eye ridge and he chuckled. "Yeah, sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

Blowing air through pursed lips, I looked at both figures. "Don't worry, mine's still alive. Probably paralyzed, though." I looked around at the rooftop, feeling uneasy. "I don't want the Foot tracking them here, though. Too close to Jack."

Raph nodded. "Yeah. I'll go toss'em in a nearby dumpster or something as a present."

Before I could say a word he scooped both of them up in one arm and bounded for the next rooftop. I watched him go for a second, then turned around and looked down at the fire escape.

All of my bubbly happiness had just morphed into uber-nervous excitement. I was going to knock on her window. Maybe I should've brought flowers? No! Stupid idea, Mike. C'mon. Taking a deep, slightly shaky breath, I carefully descended the fire escape.

Like an idiot I just stared at her window for a long second, as if I expected it to do something. I shook myself. "C'mon, pull yourself together, Mikey." I mumbled. Then, with one final breath, I raised my hand to knock.

Before my knuckle touched the glass the curtains whipped open and for a moment I was transfixed. It suddenly occurred to me that I had only seen Jack in her long-sleeved police uniform, with her hair up in a professional ponytail. Now it was loosely done in a clip, tendrils escaping everywhere in such a casually artful way that my mind was already on my sketchpad for tonight. The hair framed her face in a way that seemed to make her eyes larger, her face more feminine. She was wearing a tank top, allowing full exposure of her arms and shoulders, as well as a portion of her upper chest, revealing delicate-looking collarbones.

Then, of course, there was the tattoos.

Had I ever seen tattoos on a woman in person, outside of the Purple Dragons? I didn't think so. It's not like we get out much. Considering her attitude and her military experience, I shouldn't be surprised that she had tattoos, yet I found myself drinking them in.

On her left forearm there was a black and white half sleeve that seemed dedicated to death. Amidst artfully swirling smoke and flames, skulls, corpses and other such things seemed to dance within it, all framing a predominant skeleton who happened to be flipping you off with a bony finger. On her upper arm was a bulldog, drawn in a way as to appear he was tearing through the inside of her flesh savagely. On her right forearm was what I recognized as a soldiers cross, combat boots sitting in front of a gun and a helmet. Beneath it were six names done in delicate script. On her upper arm was another half sleeve that seemed to picture soldiers caught in the heat of battle, though the image was marred by the tell-tale puckering of burn scars. At least second degree. There was obviously more to her past than I knew.

Suddenly she yanked open the window. "What the fuck you doing? Get your ass in here before someone sees you!"

My mouth played a wide grin. Just the kind of response that I expected. Hefting the bag, I maneuvered my large frame through the window, stepping into her apartment. "Yes, dearest!"

She snorted as she stepped aside to let me through and looked at my sack. "What the fuck is that?"

I smiled at her. "My secret weapon."

She scowled at the indirect answer but didn't push further. I stood in her apartment.

Looking around, I took it in.

All of her furniture screamed thrift store, from her well used couch to mismatched shelves. I didn't feel that it was a money issue, rather the style of a person that didn't give a fig about style. The only thing that appeared newer was her plasma TV. The apartment had a smallish kitchen that appeared as well stocked as any bar, and a single bedroom with an unmade, yet comfortable looking bed.

I could hear the metal creak as Raph made it to the fire escape. Jack made a sound of exasperation. "Fuck, I thought ninjas were supposed to be fast. Get your ass in here!"

Raph glared at her as he carefully maneuvered his larger frame through the window. He barely fit. She was practically pacing by him, waiting for him to finish. No sooner was he in than she closed the window and the blinds.

I watched her movements. They were jerky and sharp. She must either be having a mild 'attack' or about to have one. Was it brought on by the email? It would explain her urgency for us getting in here, wouldn't want anyone to spot the giant turtles that someone messaged her about. Eyeing her carefully, I went to the kitchen, setting the bag of food down, watching her. Seeing her like that made me feel odd. Almost protective, I would guess. Mostly I just wanted to help her calm down, but something told me that breathing exercises wouldn't help in this situation. Not only was she too far into it but I didn't think she'd go for it right now.

She whipped around, assessing both of us with a critical eye for a moment before practically marching to a small coffee table and handing us a piece of paper. As I took it, she picked up a drink and took a healthy swig. It looked like orange juice, but something told me it was spiked with something stronger. She motioned to the old couch and a recliner. "Go ahead and sit, I guess. That's the email. I printed it out."

Sitting, I postured myself the picture of relaxation, crossing my ankle at my knee, leaning back. Though he chair creaked, it held my weight. Raph sat down on the couch, looking out of his element. He never was the social butterfly of our family, and already he could pick up that something wasn't quite the same with Jack right now. She sat next to Raph on the couch, looking at me impatiently. Clearing my throat in what I guessed was a dignified manner, though it didn't seem to elicit a single smile, I started to read.

"Jacqueline Tate," I had to pause at that one, looking at her with an eye ridge raised. "Jacqueline?"

Shifting in her seat, she glowered at me. "Use it and you die." Beside her Raph snorted. She shot him a glare. He pointedly ignored it, though I could see the smile at the corner of his lips.

I smiled at the interplay, but continued reading. Once I finished, I frowned. It seemed awfully vague. And I could see why Don's system didn't pick it up. It never once mentioned mutants, turtles, giants, or any of the other key words that he put in there.

Raph scoffed, leaning back with his arms crossed. "Doesn't seem like much to me. Are they just investigating rumors? A lot of weird shit has happened here, not just by us but by the Foot. They might not even be talking about us."

I nodded in agreement. But we still couldn't take it lightly. I knew, at least, that Don and Leo didn't like to rely on 'probably'. We needed more information. I looked at Jack. "Did you reply to it?"

She was looking away now, down at the floor between her feet. I could immediately tell that her attack had gotten worse. It was like every muscle in her body was screaming tension. "Yeah, told him that I didn't know what he was talking about. Didn't get a response back though."

Eyeing her, I folded the paper, tucking it into my belt. Maybe just continue with the conversation thread, see what she does with her tension. "I'll take it to Don tonight. He can trace the source, maybe find out more about this guy, what he does and stuff."

Suddenly she twitched, then slapped her thighs, swinging her head upright as though she was going to look at us, but stopping short. "Alright! Message delivered, task done." Briefly, as though the action would cause her harm, she glanced at Raph, then myself. I could see that thing in her eyes. She was going in deeper. It almost reminded me of a pissed off cat, sitting there, whipping its tail back and forth, unsure whether to run or blindly attack. I waited silently, testing the mood in the air. Even Raph, who didn't know about her attacks, was really silent, looking at her from the corner of his eye like he expected her to do something crazy.

Who knows? Maybe she will. The booze she was sucking down probably wasn't helping.

Standing up, she avoided looking at us. "Let me know what you guys find out, I guess. In the meantime, have a nice night or whatever." Still looking away, she made a dismissive gesture and headed for her bedroom without saying another word, closing the door firmly behind her.

My jaw dropped a little, I'll admit it. Summarily dismissed? Raph looked at me incredulously. "What the fuck is her problem?" He practically snarled.

I looked back at him. Should I explain it now? No, not even I really understood it. I recognized it a little, though. It had happened to most of us. Some sort of symptom of a hard battle. Not physically hard, but emotional, mental. Like a scar on your soul. Each of my brothers, when they went through this, had their own way of dealing with it. With their completely different personalities, I had to tailor my reaction to each one. I was fairly certain I could muddle my way through Jack's attack well enough. Hers was obviously completely different, something very serious, and for a moment I felt at a loss. What kind of person was I? Was I so cocky that I thought I could help her where the system had obviously failed? Sad enough as it was, it wasn't like she had everyone else. Though my brothers didn't realize it, I was a big part of helping them through their traumas. Who was here to help Jack with hers?

Michelangelo, at your service!

Internally I grinned. Even the act of thinking false bravado made me feel a little braver. Worked every time.

Sucking in my breath, I looked at the closed door. I could recognize the symptom right now, me being familiar with it mostly thanks to Leo and Raph. Sometimes when someone had an attack with anxiety and such, they felt like they needed to get away from everyone, no matter what the cost. A kind of fight or flight thing. I grinned cheekily at my brother. More false bravado. Again it worked, and I felt a little more positive. "Don't worry. I'll be right back."

His eyes widened. "You kidding me? You're nuts! No, you'll get kicked in the nuts."

I smiled warmly at the look on his face. It was times like this that I actually started to feel a little older than my brother, particularly since he was out of his element. Then his gaze shifted slightly, narrowing on me. I sucked in my breath. He was going into protective mode. Thinking about stopping me. He did that a couple of times with some of Leo's spats. Normally it made things worse but he didn't have to know that. He was just being a caring brother.

Then he leaned back slightly and I relaxed. He was going to let me go. Crossing his arms, he glared at me. "Let me know if she goes nutty in there or some shit. Just one word." Then, he appeared contemplative. "And remember what I said."

Leaping up, stretching jokingly like I was getting ready for a battle, I grinned at him. "Not to worry, dear brother! If I can survive your temper tantrums I can survive anything!"

"I _don't_ have temper tantrums!" He snapped back, but I caught how the corner of his lip hitched up. With one last breath, I crossed the room and opened the door.

Jack was pacing in her room, her back to me, fingers digging into her hair. I saw the rounded peaks of two defined tattoos barely peeking through her shirt on her back, though not enough to see what it was. For a second I stared as the inked-lines moved and rippled with the motion of her agitated muscles. I had the ridiculous urge to see what was beneath that shirt, see what lay under it.

The male brain has horrible timing.

As soon as the door closed softly behind me she whipped around, eyes feral and sharp. I winced. I'd snuck up on her by accident. Really needed to watch that, it was a bad thing to do at times like this.

Luckily she didn't seem to be in the 'fight' mode of her attack right now, which all things considered was rather odd with what I knew of her character. Instead, she again averted her gaze and stared at the other wall as if she wanted to burn a hole through it, fists clenched and arms tight. "What the fuck are you still doing here? I thought I told you to leave!"

Shifting, I leaned against the wall, crossing my ankles in what I hoped was a non-threatening pose. "I was worried about you."

Snorting, she resumed pacing, her eyes avoiding mine, her head hung low. "You don't need to fucking _worry_ about me! Nobody needs to worry about me!"

"I didn't need to. I wanted to." I said in a soft voice. Immediately I cursed myself. What a stupid thing to say! This is what Raph was warning against, laying it all out! Especially to her now! Stupid! I said it before I could think about what I was going to say. But I couldn't take it back. Sucking in a breath, I held it to see what she would do with it.

She froze mid-pace. "What?" Slowly, her head turned and she met my eyes again. Something in those eyes were different, softer. Immediately my heart leapt to all sorts of ridiculous conclusions, but my brain grabbed it with two hands, reigning it in fiercely.

Sure enough, her hands came to her temples, the knuckles digging into the skin. "What?" She repeated. "You don't _know _me! We've met twice and you gave me some sort of fucking bullshit about protection. I was _stupid_ enough to believe you! I don't _need _protection!"

Part of what she said was a lie, I knew it immediately. But I couldn't tell which part. Somehow, though, it gave me some hope. I chose to circumvent my blurted words. "The Foot are a serious organization."

Whipping on her heel, the pacing resumed once more. "I know! God fucking damnit I know! I was lucky to escape The Bitch with her Pajama Boys when I did! I know that! But it _doesn't fucking matter!_ I don't need protection!"

This wasn't her being cocky. There was something deeper here. I prodded lightly, something fluttering in my chest as I felt us near something that I knew was important, but I didn't know what. "There were two Foot ninja scouting your apartment when we got here."

Again she froze. Processing the information. Then her shoulders slumped slightly and, absentmindedly her hand came up and delicately traced the burn scars on her forearm. It seemed eerie as they stroked over the bumps and the images of the soldiers in battle at the same time. Almost like it was meant to be there. Not meeting my gaze, she shook her head. "That doesn't matter. Should've left them alone. Some people don't get protection."

The shift in mood weighed on me heavily. It was so much more melancholic. I felt that we were closer to something, just like I had in the past with my brothers. Unlike them, though, I knew that, partially because of all that I _didn't_ know about her, that there would be many such layers. I decided to try a different tactic. "You are strong, Jack. You're right. You don't need protection, but you deserve it. All friends deserve it."

Something in that set her off. Whirling, she stormed closer to me, abruptly closing the distance between us, getting so close that her breasts brushed feather-softly against my plastron. Even though I was leaning against the wall I nearly fell on my shell. Again I would blame the stupid male brain, but I would be lying if I didn't say that I loved how it felt.

Almost as if she could sense my mood, her expression softened and she backed off a step, leaving the air against my plastron suddenly feeling bereft of her presence. "You're wrong. Not everyone deserves it!" She tried to say it harshly but it came out too soft, almost like she realized what she was saying when she was saying it, only she couldn't stop it because it needed to come out.

That was it. Strange, in a way it was like Raph, blustering and boisterous, hiding his soft squishy inner core from the world. Jack was doing the same thing, hiding whatever was hurting. But that was enough for now. She was nearly out of her attack. She needed to unwind, relax, forget about it for now. I was sure she would think about it later; I knew I was going to.

Time for my secret weapon.

Time to make dinner.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

A/N: The next chapter will be up sooner. I was originally going to have this chapter a LOT longer, then realized when I was writing that it wouldn't work because the mood shifted too much so I cut it. SO...I have over 1,000 words of the next chapter already written! Because of this, I might keep the next chapter in Mike's POV if ya'll don't mind too much. What do you think about the extra stuff I inserted about Jack? I'm trying to be gradual to avoid the 'mary sue' syndrome. Please write a read and review to this and let me know what you think!

R/L1: First: Tate is the last name of a real person. He was awesome! We played pranks on each other (he'd put hot sauce in our coffee, we'd put lubricant on his doorknob/phone/mouse/keyboard). His attitude is VERY similar to Jack's with good reason and he nearly died multiple times in Iraq and Afghanistan because he'd risk his neck for everyone else. Second: ALL the tattoos are REAL tattoos from REAL marines, mostly from 2 people. They all had meaning, and yes, there are more tats to come.

R/L2: Yes, I'm covering the anxiety attacks again. I will be repeating it a lot in the story, mostly because PTSD is an anxiety disease, but I'm just going to cover a little more here. They don't have to be triggered by anything, sometimes they just happen. Sometimes when people are in them, they are EXTREMELY rude/mean. This is to get people to 'go away' or to lash out in part of the 'fight or flight' thing (the 'fight' doesn't have to be physical). For me, at least, they've lasted (lower grade) for an entire day, though the harsher ones tend to be a lot shorter, normally less than half an hour though it varies, of course. Let me know if you have any other questions on it either in a review or a pm. I can answer with first hand experience lol


End file.
